PRINCETON,  N.  J. 


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Presented    by  \\  \t*S  .O  XT'x-xo  \C\  (IJVvA^w^  O' 


BR  85  .S647  1877       

Smith,  Henry  Boynton,  1815- 

1877. 
Faith  and  philosophy 


FAITH 


PHILOSOPHY: 


/;]■    THE    SAME    AUniOK. 

HISTORY    OF    THE  CHURCH    OF  CHRIST 

IN   CHRONOLOGICAL  TABLES. 

Revised  Edition. 

One  volume,  folio,  cloth, So-oo 

***  Scut,  i'.r/>yrss  iharg^cs  fiaid,  on    rfcei/'t   of  price,   by    the 
J''iihUshe>s. 

SCRIBNER,  ARMSTRONG  &  CO., 

743  AND  745  lJROAD\v•\^•.  New  Vouk. 


FAI  T  H 


Airo 


PHILOSOPHY: 

DiSCOUESES  AND  ESSAYS 

/by 
HENRY  B.  SMITH,  D.D.,  LL.D. 

EDITED 

WITir   AN    INTMODUCTORY    NOTICE 

BY 

GEORGE   L.  PRENTISS,  D.D., 

PROFESSOR  IN  THE  UNION  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY,    IN   THE  CITY  OF  NEW  YOEK. 


"  Sehr  Bchmerzlich  hat  mich  cler  Tod  von  Henry  B.  Smith  beriihrt.  Ich  habe  ihn  ala 
einen  der  ersten.  wenii  nicht  al.s  ersten  Ainenkaiischen  Theologen  der  Gegenwart  angesehen  ; 
festgegriindet  im  Christlichen  Glauben,  frei  und  weiten  Hei'zens  mid  Blickes,  philosophischen 
Geistes  und  fiir  systematishe  Theologie  ungewiilinlich  begabt.  Miichte  doch  etwas  in  dieser 
Hinsicht  aus  seinem  Nachlass  veroffentlicht  werden." — Dr.  Dorneh,  of  Berlin. 


NEW    YORK: 
SCRIBNER,  ARMSTRONG  &  CO. 

1877. 


Copyright  bt 

BCRIBNER,  ARMSTRONG  &  CO. 

1877. 


Tfow's 

Printing  and  Bookbinding  Co., 

205-213  East  \itk  St. 

NEW   YORK. 


INTRODUOTOEY    ISTOTIOE. 


The  death  of  Henry  B.  Smith  was  felt  to  be  an  almost 
irreparable  loss  to  the  best  culture  and  learning  of  our 
country.  Whether  regarded  as  a  theologian,  as  a  philo 
sophical  thinker,  or  as  a  general  scholar  and  critic,  he  was  con 
fessedly  one  of  the  most  accomplished  men  of  his  time.  Such 
was  the  opinion  of  him  often  expressed  by  those  best  qualified 
to  judge,  both  at  home  and  abroad.  And  had  his  life  and 
health  been  spared  a  few  years  longer,  he  would  no  doubt 
have  furnished  to  the  world,  in  rij^e  productions  of  his  pen, 
still  more  substantial  reason  for  this  high  estimate.  As  it  is, 
with  the  exception  of  his  elaborate  and  invaluable  History 
of  the  Church  of  Christ  in  Chronological  Tables,  his  writings 
consist  chiefly  of  occasional  discourses,  essays,  and  reviews. 
But  although  occasional  and  m.ore  or  less  fragmentary,  they 
discuss  some  of  the  most  important  and  vital  questions  of 
the  age;  and  they  do  it  with  such  exhaustive  power,  that  in 
several  instances  the  discourse,  or  essay,  might  readily  be  en- 
larged into  a  book,  with  no  other  change  than  that  of  greater 
fulness  of  statement  and  illustration.  The  opening  paper  of 
this  volume,  on  the  Kelations  of  Faith  and  Philosophy,  and 
that  on  Church  History,  may  serve  as  examples.  The  strong 
points  in  each  case  are  so  vividly  presented  ;  the  principles 
involved  are  set  forth  with  such  distinctness ;  the  discussion 
is  so  luminous  and  complete,  that  a  whole  treatise  on  the 
subject  could  hardly  add  to  the  foi-ce  of  the  argument. 

A  conviction  of  the  superior  quality  and  permanent  value 
of  Dr.  Smith's  writings  has  led  to  the  present  selection.  It 
is  called  Faith  and  Philoso])hy,  because  that  title  fitly  indi- 


IV  INTKODUCTOKY    NOTICE. 

eates  its  general  character.  Almost  everything  in  it  belongs 
to  one  or  the  other  of  these  two  noblest  spheres  of  Imnuiii 
thought.  And  Dr.  Smith  was  entirely  at  home  in  them  both. 
He  deh'ghted  to  grapple  with  the  hardest  problems  of  specu- 
lative science;  and  he  did  so  with  an  ease  that  showed  how 
congenial  they  were  to  the  native  bent  and  temper  of  his 
mind.  He  delighted  still  more  to  discuss  the  most  difficult 
questions  of  Christian  faith;  and  he  did  so  with  a  spiritual 
insight,  a  breadth  and  vigoi'  of  thouglit,  a  wise  discrimination 
and  a  zeal  for  truth,  which  showed  him  to  possess  the  genius, 
as  well  as  the  culture  and  learning,  of  a  finished  tlieologian. 
The  following  pages  bear  witness  to  all  this,  and  not  less  to 
the  fine  literary  skill,  logical  acumen,  and  admirable  sense, 
with  which  he  was  wont  to  enforce  his  opinions  on  these 
high  themes. 

This  volume  contains  a  portion  only  of  his  miscellaneous 
writings.  There  is  ample  material  for  a  second  series,  should 
one  be  called  for ;  and  it  would  include  some  of  the  best 
things  he  ever  wrote.* 

Several  of  these  papers  have  already  made  their  mark  in 
history.  It  is  enough  to  mention  the  first  two,  together  with 
the  seventh.  The  oration  at  Andover  and  the  Inaugural 
Addi-ess  on  Church  History,  formed  an  epoch  in  the  intellec- 
tual life  of  scores  of  earnest  young  men  preparing  for  the 
sacred  office,  or  just  entering  upon  its  duties.  Nov  were  they 
read  with  less  eagerness  by  some  of  the  ripest  thinkers  and 
scholars^of  the  land,  I  will  venture  to  quote  from  one  of 
these,  the  eminent  historian  of  the  United  States. 

"Your  orations  (writes  Mr.  Bancroft,  then  almost  a  stranger,  but  ever 
after  a  warm  and  honored  friend  of  Dr.  Smith),  your  orations  aro  admirable. 
Especially  was  I  pleased  and  instructed  by  your  inaugural  address.  In 
Church  History  you  have  no  rival  in  this  hemisphere ;  and  you  know  I  am 
bound  to  think  history  includes  dogmatics,  and  philosophy,  and  theology. 

*E.  g.,  The  Problem  of  the  PMlosophy  of  History,  a  Phi  Beta  Kappa  ad- 
dress at  Yale  College;  A  Plea  for  Christian  Colleges;  The  Ultimate  Supre- 
macy of  the  Kingdom  of  Iledeiniition ;  Limits  of  Religious  Thought;  and 
a  beautiful  discourse  on  esthetics,  still  in  manuscript. 


INTRODUCTORY    NOTICE.  V 

"  In  the  Andover  oration  I  might  perhaps  find  some  room  to  object  to 
the  extent  to  which  you  carry  the  doctrine  of  deference  to  authority.  We 
may  light  our  candle  by  another's,  but  faith,  to  be  of  value,  must  be  living ; 
and  to  be  a  living  one,  must  be  approved  by  the  heart  and  by  reason.  .  .  . 
I  must  again  say  how  much  I  have  been  delighted  with  the  spirit,  manner, 
and  learning  and  earnestness  of  both  addresses.  I  know  no  one  in  the 
country  but  yourself  who  could  have  written  them." 

The  Aiulover  address  was  immediate^  reprinted  by  the 
eminent  house  of  T.  &  T.  Clark,  in  Edinlniro-li,  where  it  at- 
tracted ninch  attention.*  A  friend  writing  to  Prof.  Sniitli, 
in  1859,  thus  alludes  to  it :  "  1  believe  I  mentioned  that  Sir 
William  Hamilton,  and  also  the  late  Rev.  Dr.  John  Brown, 
made  particular  inquiries  respecting  jou,  and  expressed  a 
hearty  admiration  for  your  address  on  the  Relations  of  Faith 
and  Philosophy.  Dr.  B.  had  it  republished,  so  I  was  in- 
formed." 

Of  the  pmper  on  Christian  Union  and  Eoclesiastical  Re- 
union^ this  at  least  may  be  said  :  It  struck  the  key-note  of  the 
great  reunion  movement  in  the  Presbyterian  Chm'ches,  and 
poiiit'dd  out  the  sure  and  only  way  to  its  happy  consummation, 
No  essential  feature  of  the  event  bat  what  was  distinctly  out- 
lined in  this  truly  ireuical,  large-liearted,  sagacious,  and  Chris- 
tian-like discourse. 

It  is  hardly  needful  to  speak  in  detail  of  the  various  papers 
which  compose  this  volume.  They  will  sufficiently  explain 
and  speak  for  themselves.  As  may  be  seen  at  a  glance,  they 
embrace  a  very  wide  range  of  topics  and  of  thought.  They 
discuss  some  of  the  oldest  and  some  of  the  newest  questions 
of  speculative  philosophy,  and  sonie  of  the  oldest  as  well  as 
newest  questions  of  Christian  ethics  and  divinity.  But  what- 
ever the  topic — whether  a  novel  theory  of  the  day  or  one  of 

*  It  was  accompanied  by  the  following  note  :  "  The  form  of  the  spoken 
address  is  retained  in  this  paper,  because  a  change  in  this  respect  would 
demand  a  change  in  the  whole  structure  and  arrangement  of  the  discussion. 
The  tone  of  the  piece  was  necessarily  kept  rather  popular  than  scientific. 
The  exigencies  of  the  occasion  must  be  the  author's  plea  for  the  slight  no- 
tice given  to  many  important  points,  which  must  needs  be  introduced, 
though  they  could  not  be  formally  debated." 


VI  INTRODUCTORY    NOTICE. 

old,  standing  problems  of  human  knowledge — it  is  always  dis- 
cussed in  the  light  of  great  principles,  in  the  interest  of  truth, 
and  with  the  manly  freedom,  earnestness,  and  candor  that  be- 
come a  Christian  scholar.  The  discussion  is  sometimes  re- 
lieved by  touches  of  that  piquant  wit  and  drj'  hnmor,  which 
lent  a  peculiar  charm  to  Prof.  Smith's  conversation  and  even 
to  his  theological  lectures.  It  is  also  enlivened,  here  and 
there,  by  a  somewhat  sharper  tone,  called  forth  by  what  he 
regarded  as  a  wanton,  ruthless  assault  upon  his  Master  and 
holy  things.  The  power  of  polished  ridicule  and  sarcasm 
was,  indeed,  one  of  the  most  effective  weapons  in  his  mental 
armory ;  but  he  used  it  sparingly,  knowing  very  well  how 
easily  it  is  mistaken  for  an  angry  or  hostile  temper.  If  his 
intellectual  thrusts  are  occasionally  keen  and  pierce  even  to 
the  quick,  it  is  because  they  are  the  thrusts  of  a  master  of  the 
controversial  art,  who,  seeing  liis  lawful  advantage,  feels  bound 
to  use  it  for  the  truth's  sake.  But  no  man  was  ever  freer  in 
spirit  and  intention  from  the  low,  petty  motives  of  partisan- 
ship, whether  theological  or  of  any  other  sort.  His  whole 
mental  and  moral  being  was  cast  in  a  large,  generous,  catholic 
mould  ;  and  he  looked  with  abhorrence  upon  the  prostitution 
of  great  questions  of  Christian  truth  and  duty  to  mere  secta- 
rian or  personal  issues.  This  was  one  secret,  doubtless,  of  his 
extraordinary  influence,  and  of  the  esteem  and  admiration  felt 
for  him  by  so  many,  who  differed  with  him  radically  in  mat- 
ters of  opinion. 

Had  he  himself  prepared  these  papers  again  for  the  press, 
he  would  have  subjected  them  to  a  careful  revision,  and  per- 
haps have  modified,  here  and  there,  tlie  form,  if  not  the 
thought.  Possibly  he  might  have  omitted  some  passages 
altogether.  He  was  always  striving  after  greater  clearness, 
exactitude,  and  force,  as  well  as  fairness,  of  expression.  For- 
tunately, a  number  of  valuable  corrections  and  emendations 
were  found  in  his  own  handwriting,  and  have,  of  course,  been 
adopted.  When  they  first  appeared,  some  of  the  following 
discussions  were  exceedingly  helpful  to  minds  struggling  with 
the  difficulties  of  modern  thought,  or  resisting  the  assaults  of 


INTKODUCTORY   NOTICE.  Vll 

modern  doubt  and  denial.  It  is  hoped  tliat,  in  this  new  form, 
thej  may  fulfil  again  the  same  kindly  and  gracious  office. 
Their  author  understood,  as  did  few  others  on  this  side  of  the 
Atlantic,  the  magnitude  of  these  difficulties  and  the  terrible 
energy,  as  well  as  strength,  of  these  assaults.  But  he  never 
faltered  in  the  conviction  that  they  could  and,  in  due  time, 
would  be  overcome  by  the  victorious  power  of  Revealed  truth. 
His  divinity  and  his  philosophy  both  centred  in  Christ ;  his 
theories  of  man,  of  history,  and  of  the  world  centred  also  in 
Christ ;  for  him  all  the  dearest  interests  of  humanity,  and  those 
eternal  verities  which  once  ravished  the  soul  of  Plato,  and 
have  ravished  the  souls  of  the  greatest  saints  and  sages  ever 
since,  had  their  source  and  centre  in  Christ ;  and  so  he  was 
sure  that  in  Christ  as  the  creative,  upholding,  and  redemptive 
Logos,  the  human  mind  will  find  at  length  "  the  Sabbath  and 
port  of  all  its  labors  and  peregrinations." 

Meanwhile  he  watched  the  signs  of  the  times  with  an  eager 
eye,  and  not  without  anxious  foreboding.  Again  and  again 
he  recurs  to  the  subject.  "No  man  who  loves  the  Christian 
faith "  (such  was  almost  the  first  sentence  of  his  address  at 
Andover,  in  1849),  "  no  man  who  is  alive  to  the  spirit  of  the 
times,  as  every  man  ought  to  be  alive,  can  have  failed  to  feel, 
to  see,  or  to  forebode  the  coming  of  a  conflict  between  the 
mightiest  powers  that  sway  the  destiny  of  man."  During  the 
quarter  of  a  century  which  intervened  between  the  Andover 
address  and  the  article  on  The  New  Faith  of  Sfymuss,  the 
conflict  had  fully  come,  and  that  article  unfolds  its  character, 
and  shows  how  deadly  is  the  strife,  and  how  vast  the  issue. 
The  "  new  faith  "  is  that  in  blind,  o'ermastering  Force  which  is 
above  all,  and  through  'all,  and  in  all,  in  place  of  the  old 
faith  in  God,  the  Father  Almighty,  and  in  Jesus  Christ,  Ilis 
only  Son,  our  Lord.  And  its  practical  effects  are  thus  impres- 
sively depicted  in  the  closing  part  of  tlie  article  : 

"  A  generation  drugged  with  such  a  fell  delusion  will 
change  the  face  of  the  earth.  Especially  in  our  own  country, 
where  material  prosperity  is  so  rife  and  seductive,  and  ma- 
terial necessities  are  so  urgent  and  constant — if  to  these  be 


Vlll  INTEODUCTOEY   NOTICE. 

added  the  concentration  and  impetus  of  a  scientific  and  ag- 
gressive materialism,  and  our  whole  theory  of  life  be  trans- 
muted by  its  incantations — no  imagination  can  forecast  its 
perils  and  no  wisdom  curb  its  riotous  excesses.  For  nothing 
will  be  sacred  to  it ;  there  is  no  hallowed  word  it  will  not 
scoffingly  transform ;  there  is  no  institution  of  church  or 
state  it  will  not  destroy  and  reshape ;  the  only  law  it  knows 
is  the  tyrant's  maxim,  that  might  makes  right.  Neither 
strength  nor  beauty  can  be  in  its  sanctuary.  Let  the  race  be 
thoroughly  taught  in  this  new  creed,  blinded  to  the  supreme 
light  of  reason  and  the  imperative  obligations  of  conscience, 
indifferent  to  God  and  to  eternal  life,  and  it  will  be  ready  to 
perish.  To  the  most  cultured,  life  will  be  oidy  a  narrow 
realism ;  for  the  mass  of  mankind  there  is  left  chiefly  a 
fierce  struggle  for  wealth  and  power  and  pleasure,  with  the 
survival  of  the  strongest.  And  this  New  Faith  is,  after  all, 
but  a  revival  of  the  oldest  form  of  the  most  desrradine-  un- 
belief ;  it  cuts  off  the  wings  of  the  soul,  drags  it  down  to 
earth,  and  extorts  from  it  the  reluctant  and  despairing 
confession,  that  all  that  is  left  it  is  a  dogged  purpose  to 
submit  to  annihilation,  as  do  the  beasts  that  perisli.  If 
a  brute  could  become  conscious,  it  could  not  have  any  less 
religion." 

This  Introductory  Notice  may  fitly  close  with  a  brief  sketch 
of  Pi-of.  Smith's  life  and  character.  IIexey  Boynton  Smith 
was  born  in  Portland,  Maine,  November  21st,  1815.  Port- 
land was  not  less  remarkable  for  its  social  culture  and  intel- 
ligence than  for  those  natural  beauties,  that  render  it  one  of 
the  most  charming  spots  on  the  Atlantic  coast.  Here,  in  the 
midst  of  the  happiest  influences,  his  boyhood  was  spent.  At 
the  age  of  fifteen  he  entered  Bowdoin  College,  where  he 
graduated  in  1834.  Among  his  classmates  or  contemporaries 
in  college  w^ere  Cyrus  Hamlin,  Peleg  W.  Chandler,  Daniel 
R  Goodwin,  William  II.  Allen,  Samuel  Harris,  John  A.  An- 
drew, Benjamin  Fordyce  Barker  and  others,  whose  names 
have  since  become  widely  knoAvn  and  honored.  His  theo- 
logical studies  were  pursued  at  Bangor  and  Andover,  and, 


INTRODUCTORY    NOTICE.  ix 

later,  at  the  universities  of  Halle  and  Berlin.  While  in  Ger- 
many he  devoted  himself  with  enthusiasm  to  philosophy  and 
church  history,  as  well  as  divinity.  His  teachers  regarded 
him  with  singular  interest  and  affection,  treating  him  less  as 
their  pupil  than  as  their  friend  and  equal.  In  Berlin  he  was 
often  a  welcome  guest  at  the  house  of  Neander,  who  showed 
Iiim  great  kindness.  At  Halle  his  relations  ;with  Tholuck 
and  Ulrici  were  especially  intimate ;  they  loved  and  treated 
him  as  a  younger  brother.  With  some  of  his  fellow-students 
and  of  the  young  theologians  he  also  formed  ties  of  friend- 
ship, which  remained  fresh  to  the  day  of  his  death.  Kahnis, 
now  so  distinguished  as  professor  of  theology  at  Leipsic,  and 
Godet,  the  eloquent  and  accomplished  Swiss  theologian,  were 
of  this  number. 

He  returned  to  the  United  States,  not  only  enriched  with 
the  best  thought  and  culture  of  Germany,  but  quickened  in 
his  whole  intellectual  and  spiritual  being  by  contact  with  its 
great  thinkers,  its  noble  Christian  men,  and  its  beautiful 
domestic  life.  After  a  year  of  service  as  an  instructor  at 
Bowdoin  College,  during  the  absence  of  President  Woods 
in  Europe,  he  was  ordained  in  1842  to  the  charge  of  the 
Congregational  Church  in  West  Amesbury,  Massachusetts. 
In  this  little  village  he  spent  five  happy  years,  devoting  him- 
self assiduously  to  his  pastoral  work,  and  winning  more  and 
more  the  love  of  his  people.  From  1845  to  1847  he  also 
gave  instruction  in  Hebrew  at  Andover,  supplying  the  place 
of  his  friend  Prof.  Bela  B.  Edwards,  then  absent  in  quest  of 
health.  In  1847  he  became  Professor  of  Mental  and  Moral 
Philosophy  in  Amherst  College.  In  1850  he  received  a 
unanimous  call  to  the  chair  of  Church  History  in  the  Union 
Theological  Seminary,  in  the  city  of  New  York.  It  was  not 
without  a  sevei-e  struggle  of  mind  that  he  at  length  accej)ted 
this  call.  He  was  a  devoted  son  of  New  England  ;  his  posi- 
tion at  Amherst  was  most  congenial  to  his  tastes,  and  many 
friends  whom  he  loved  and  honored,  urged  him  not  to  leave 
it.  But  after  long  deliberation  he  decided  that  it  was  his 
duty  to  come  to  New  York  ;    and  he  never  saw  any  reason 


X  INTKODUCTORY   NOTICE. 

to  question  the  wisdom  of  tliis  decision.  lie  entered  the 
Presbyterian  Church  to  become  one  of  its  most  lionored 
teachers  and  leaders  ;  but  his  filial  affection  for  New  England 
continued  strong  and  pure  to  the  last.  In  1S55  he  was  trans- 
ferred to  the  chair  of  Systematic  Theology.  Here  is  not  tlie 
place  to  speak  of  his  relations  to  the  Union  Theological 
Seminary,  or  of  the  inestimable  services  he  rendered  to  this 
institution.  In  1859  he  founded  The  American  Theological 
Review,  which,  in  1863  became  united  with  the  Preshyterian 
Review,  under  the  title  of  The  American  Presbyterian  and 
Tkeological  Revieio.  This  again,  in  1871,  was  united  with 
The  Princeton  Repei'tory  under  the  name  of  The  Presby- 
terian Quarterly  and  Princeton  Review. 

Professor  Smith  revisited  Europe  in  1S59,  and  again  in 
1866.  Toward  the  close  of  1868  his  health  became  so  much 
shattered  that  he  was  obliged  to  abandon  all  work  and  flee 
for  his  life.  In  February,  1869,  he  went  abroad  with  his 
family,  and  spent  a  year  and  a  half  in  Germany,  in  Italy,  and 
in  the  lands  of  the  Bible.  Returning  in  1870,  better,  yet  not 
"well,  he  resumed  his  work  in  the  seminary.  But  toward  the 
close  of  1873  he  was  prostrated  by  a  new  attack  of  disease, 
and  on  the  13th  of  January,  1874,  he  resigned  his  chair. 
He  was  at  once  made  Professor  Emeritus,  and  afterwards 
Lecturer  on  Apologetics.  During  the  next  three  years  he 
carried  on  the  struggle  for  life  with  extraordinary  resolution, 
and  with  a  hope  that  would  never  yield.  In  the  autumn  of 
1876  his  strength  had  so  rallied,  that  the  Board  of  Directors 
appointed  him  to  deliver  the  Ely  Lectures  on  the  Evidences  of 
Christianity.  He  was  in  the  midst  of  his  preparation  for  this 
course,  which  he  was  intensely  anxious  to  deliver,  when  death 
overtook  him.  He  entered  into  rest  on  Wednesday  morning, 
February  7th,  1877,  in  the  sixty-second  year  of  his  age.  He 
had  been  fast  ripening  for  the  mortal  event.  Those  who  knew 
him  most  intimately  had,  of  late,  often  observed  in  him  an 
unusual  tenderness,  humility,  and  sweet  gentleness  of  spirit ; 
he  seemed  to  cling  closer  and  closer  to  Christ ;  his  prayers 
were  full  of  holy  fervor  and  unction  ;  and  his  religious  talk,  in 


INTRODUCTORY    NOTICE.  XI 


the  fellowship  of  his  Christian  brethren,  was  at  times  marked 
by  a  tone  of  wondrous  elevation,  beauty,  and  pathos.    "  His  last 
public  utterance  "  (writes  his  pastor,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Yincent) 
"was  in  the  prayer-meeting  at  the  Church  of  the  Covenant, 
on  the  evening  of  November  1st,  1876.     Tlie  subject  for  the 
evening  was  one  of  the  Pilgrim  psalms,  the  122d :  "  Jerusa- 
lem is  builded  as  a  city  that  is  compact  togetlier.     Pray  for 
the  peace  of  Jerusalem."     He  rose,  and  taking  up  the  thought 
of  what  Jerusalem  had  been  to  the  church  of  all  ages  since 
its  foundation,  he  dwelt  upon  the  love  and  longing  which  had 
gone  out  to  it  from  the  hearts  of  the  pilgrims  in  its  palmy 
days,  from  beneath  the  willows  of  Babylon,  from  prince  and 
devotee'  and  crusader,  touching  liere  and  there  upon  salient 
points  in  its  history,  until,  with  the  warmer  glow  of  emotion 
stealing  into  his  tremulous  voice,  he  led  our   thoughts  to 
the  Jerusalem  above— the  Christian  pilgrim's  goal— and  the 
rest  and  perfect  joy  of  the  weary.      The  talk  was  like  the 
gem    in    Thalaba's   mystic   ring— a   cut  crystal  full  of  fire. 
Perhaps  something  of  his  own  weariness  and  struggle  crept 
'  unconsciously  into  his  words,  and  gave  them  their  peculiar 
depth  and  tenderness." 

His  funeral  took  place  in  the  Church  of  the  Covenant,  on 
the  afternoon  of  February  9th.  The  assembly  was  such  as  is 
seldom  seen  in  this  country,  and  testified  that  a  very  remark- 
able man  had  passed  away.  It  represented  whatever  is  high- 
est and  best  in  American  culture  and  scholarship. 

At  a  preliminary  meeting  of  the  clergy  of  New  York  and 
vicinity,  voice  was  given  to  the  common  sentiment  in  a  most 
appreciative  minute,  and  in  brief  addresses  full  of  love  and 
admiration.  From  the  absent  also  came  very  touching  trib- 
utes. I  cannot  deny  myself  the  pleasure  of  quoting  a  few 
sentences  from  one  of  them.  Upon  going  abroad  in  1869, 
Prof  Smith  had  expressed  the  wish  that  in  the  event  of  his 
death,  his  old  and  dear  friend,  Dr.  Park,  of  Andover,  might 
speak  at  his  burial.  Dr.  Park  was  unable  to  be  present,  but 
he  thus  expressed  his  feelings  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Wm.  Allen 
Smith : 


Xll  INTKODTTCTORT   NOTICE. 

"  If,  however,  I  had  been  able  to  reach  New  York  I  could  not  have 
spoken  at  the  solemnity.  I  could  not  have  commanded  my  power  of  utter- 
ance.    I  felt  unable  to  speak  for  a  long  time  after  I  heard  the  sad  news. 

.  .  It  is  now  about  forty  years  since  I  first  saw  your  father.  It  was 
in  my  study,  a  few  feet  from  the  spot  where  I  am  now  writing  this  letter. 
I  distinctly  remember  his  spiritual  face,  his  etherial  body,  his  tones,  his 
words.  One  of  his  sentences  I  have  often  repeated.  I  thought  it  a  remark- 
able sentence  for  so  young  a  man.     He  was  then  about  to  sail  for  Germany. 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  he  does  not  need  much  change  in  or.der  to  have  a 
spiritual  body  in  heaven.  It  seems  natural  for  him  to  be  in  the  spiritual 
companionship  of  that  upper  world. 

"  Among  all  the  friends  whom  he  will  meet  there  none  will  receive  him 
more  gladly  than  his  admirer,  B.  B.  Edwards.  How  often  and  how  affec- 
tionately Prof.  Edwards  was  wont  to  speak  of  him  !  The  two  were  kindred 
spirits  on  earth  and  will  be  forever. 

"  I  do  so  heartily  regret  that  I  failed  to  see  him  when  I  was  in  New  York 
twenty  months  ago.  I  desired  to  ask  him  many  questions,  some  of  which 
he  was  the  only  man  capable  of  answering.  I  have  this  winter  desired  to 
propose  some  other  questions  to  him,  and  I  do  not  know  any  man  who  can 
answer  them  as  well  as  he  could.  In  certain  departments  of  study  he  had 
traversed  ground  which  few  persons  in  this  country  have  ventured  upon. 
Is  all  his  learning  to  perish  with  him  ?  By  no  means.  As  he  wiU  live,  so 
will  his  learning  live.  He  will  be  a  rich  treasure  in  the  world  of  treasures. 
'  The  kings  of  the  earth  do  bring  their  glory  and  their  honor  unto  it. ' 

'  •  I  trust  that  Prof.  Smith  has  left  numerous  manuscripts  in  a  fit  state 
for  jDublication.  I  hope  that  in  some  form  his  system  of  theology  will  be 
published.     The  substance  of  it  will  be,  doubtless. 

"  Alas  !  how  many  reflections  come  into  my  mind  at  the  thought  that  his 
earthly  activity  has  ceased.  How  many  reminiscences  of  Tholuck,  Kahnis, 
and  many  other  German  friends  to  whom  he  introduced  me  !  How  they 
loved  him,  even  as  a  son  or  a  brother  !  " 

Some  of  the  mott  grateful  and  aifecting  tributes  to  his 
memory  came  from  those  who  had  no  sympathy  with  many 
of  his  theological  views.  One  of  them  in  particular  1  cannot 
refrain  from  quoting.  It  does  equal  honor  to  the  writer  and 
to  his  departed  friend.  In  a  letter  written  on  Saturday  even- 
ing, February  10th,  the  day  after  the  funeral,  the  Rev.  Henry 
W.  Bellows,  D.D.,  of  this  city,  thus  i-efers  to  the  "great  and 
glorious  scholar"  by  wliose  bier  he  had  just  been  standing: 

"The  depth  and  breadth  of  Prof.  Smith's  theology  and 
piety,  tlie  unaffected  charity  of  his  sympathies,  his  modesty 
under  tlie   crown  of   learning  and  philosophy  which  he  so 


INTKODUCTOEY    NOTICE.  Xlll 

manifestly  wore,  his  entire  freedom  from  low  ambition  of 
place  or  name,  his  gaiety  of  heart  in  weary  invalidism,  and 
the  vigor  of  his  soul  so  set  off  by  the  frailty  of  his  body — all 
these  rare  and  precious  characteristics — I,  with  thousands  of 
others  who  have  a  nearer  right  to  avow  them,  shall  ever  cher- 
ish and  lament  to  lose. 

"  How  it  belittles  our  sense  of  human  recognition  and  esti- 
mate to  think  how  feebly  the  general  public  knows  what  a 
treasure  has  dropped  from  the  world,  and  how  jDoor  it  leaves 
the  church  and  the  scholai'ship  of  America. 

"  Excuse  my  seeking  this  means  of  relieving  my  own  sor- 
row, and  of  making  you  the  receiver  of  this  feeble  testimony 
to  the  worth  and  dignity  of  the  honored  saint  we  have  just 
buried." 

From  beyond  the  sea,  also,  came  tokens  of  the  same  heart- 
felt sorrow.  Prof.  Smith  had  great  admiration  for  Dr. 
Dorner,  of  Berlin,  whom  he  regarded  as,  at  present,  "  the 
leading  scientific  evangelical  theologian  of  Germany."  In  a 
letter  to  Prof.  Briggs,  of  the  Union  Seminary,  dated  May 
30,  1877,  Dr.  Dorner  gives  utterance  to  the  feeling  with 
which  Prof.  Smith  was  regarded  in  the  land  of  Luther.  An 
extract  from  this  letter  will  be  found  on  the  title-page.  From 
Switzerland,  too,  came  a  similar  voice.  The  following  is 
from  a  letter  of  Professor  Godet,  of  Xeuchatel : 

"  La  premiere  fois  que  nous  nous  sommes  rencontres,  c'etait  a  Berlin, 
chez  notre  pere  spirituel,  1' excellent  Neander.  J'ai  appris  alors  a  con- 
naitre  en  lui  I'un  des  jeunes  chretiens  les  plus  aimables,  Tun  des  gentlemen 
les  plus  Chretiens  que  j'ai  jamais  rencontres. 

Plus  tard  j'ai  eu  la  joie  de  revoir  M.  Smith  en  Suisse.  Devenus  pro- 
fesseurs  I'un  et  I'autre,  nous  causames  naturellement  de  theologie,  et 
j'appris  alors  a  connaitre  I'un  des  esprits  les  plus  profonds,  les  plus 
judicieux  et  les  plus  perspicieux  que  j'ai  jamais  rencontres.  II  dominait 
chaque  sujet  et  me  dominait  en  en  parlant. 

En  apprenant  la  mort  de  cet  homme  eminent,  j'ai  eu  le  sentiment  bien 
profond  :  voila  un  citoyen  rentre  dans  sa  patrie  !  " 

Of  Prof.  Smith's  personal  and  social  qualities,  his  manly 
simplicity,  his  unpretending,  modest  ways,  his  genial  and 
generous  sympathies,   his   quiet   mirth,  his  quaint,  delicate 


XIV  INTEODUCTORY   NOTICE. 

humor,  his  love  of  books  and  all  good  fellowship,  his  catholic 
spirit,  his  high-toned  sense  of  truth  and  justice,  his  patriotic 
zeal,  his  kindly  interest  in  young  men,  and  readiness  to  serve 
them,  his  devotion  as  a  friend,  his  sweet  domestic  affections 
— of  these  and  still  other  attractive  features  of  his  beau- 
tiful character,  there  is  no  room  to  speak  at  length.  But 
they  are  enshrined  in  many  hearts,  and  will  never  lose  their 
fragrance.  The  memory  of  them,  and  of  that  library  with 
which,  in  so  many  minds,  they  are  indissolubly  associated — 
how  very  pleasant  it  is,  and  always  will  be  ! — "  Who  can  for- 
get that  room,  walled  and  double- walled  with  books,  the  baize- 
covered  desk  in  the  corner  by  the  window,  loaded  with  the 
fresh  philosophic  and  theologic  treasures  of  the  European 
press,  and  the  little  figure  in  the  long  gray  wrapper  seated 
there — the  figure  so  frail  and  slight  that,  as  one  of  his  friends 
remarked,  it  seeuied  as  though  it  would  not  be  much  of  a ' 
change  for  him  to  take  on  a  spiritual  body ;  the  beautifully 
moulded  brow,  crowned  with  its  thick,  wavy,  sharply  parted, 
iron-gray  hair,  the  strong  aquiline  profile,  the  restless  shift- 
ing in  his  chair,  the  nervous  pulling  of  the  hand  at  the 
moustache  as  the  stream  of  talk  widened  and  deepened,  the 
occasional  start  from  his  seat  to  pull  down  a  book  or  to  search 
for  a  pamphlet — how  inseparably  these  memories  twine  them- 
selves with  those  of  high  debate  and  golden  speech  and  con- 
verse on  the  themes  of  Christian  philosophy  and  Christian 
experience."*  What  other  library  can  ever  seem  like  his, 
and  where  is  the  Chriistian  scholar  to  fill  his  place?  When 
shall  we  look  upon  another  Henry  B.  Smith? 

"  That  friend  of  mine  who  lives  in  God." 

G.  L.  P. 

New  York,  October  23,  1877. 


*  Dr.  Vincent,  in  The  Presbyterian  (Quarterly  and  Princeton  Beview  for 
April,  1817. 


CONTENTS. 


^^      I.  The  Relations  op  Faith  and  Philosophy 1 

^        II.  Nature  and  Worth  op  the  Science  op  Church  History.     49 

III.  The  Reformed  Churches    op    Europe  and   America    in 

Relation  to  General  Church  History 87 

''       IV.  The  Idea  op  Christian  Theology  as  a  System 125 

V.  The  New  Latitudinarians  op  England 167 

VI.  The  Theological  System  op  Emmons 215 

VII.  Christian  Union  and  Ecclesiastical  Reunion 2G5 

VIII.  Sir  William  Hamilton's  Theory  op  Knowledge 297 

IX.  Draper's  Intellectual  Development  op  Europe 337 

;  X.  Whedon  on  the  Will 359 

XI.  Renan's  Life  op  Jesus 401 

XII.  The  New  Faith  op  Strauss 443 


THE    RELATIONS 


FAITH  AND  PHILOSOPHY.* 


Although  the  very  name  of  your  society  might  seem  to 
indicate  the  subject  of  your  anniversary  addresses,  yet  I  have 
been  deterred  from  taking  sacred  rhetoric  as  my  theme, 
partly  by  the  memory  of  the  orations  of  former  years,  and 
partly  because  I  have  supposed  that  he  who  advocated  the 
claims  of  this  art  ought,  in  his  own  person,  to  exemplify  its 
power.  And  I  feel  justified  in  adventuring  upon  a  graver 
topic,  because  this  is  consistent  with  your  own  precedents ; 
because  1  am  convinced  it  is  equally  befitting  the  occasion  ; 
and  because  it  is  more  congenial  with  my  own  pursuits. 

We  meet  as  believers,  as  students,  perhaps  as  teachers  of 
the  Christian  faith.  AVe  are  rationally  convinced  that  in 
Christianity  is  the  highest  truth,  and  that  in  the  orthodox 
system,  which  has  formed  the  substance  of  Christianity 
through  its  advancing  and  victorious  centuries,  we  have  the 
best  human  exposition  of  the  divine  revelation.  In  propor- 
tion, then,  to  our  love  for  this  system,  and  to  our  love  of  all 
truth,  will  be  the  depth  of  our  interest  in  tJie  assaults  made 
on  our  faith,  whether  by  depraved  passions  or  by  elevated 
intellects. 

No  man  who  loves  the  Christian  faith  as  it  ought  to  be 
loved,  no  man  who  is  alive  to  the  spirit  of  the  times  in  which 
he  lives,  as  every  man  ought  to  be  alive,  can  have  failed  to 

*  An  address  before  the  Porter  Rhetorical  Society  of  Andover  Theological 
Seminary,  at  its  anniversary,  Sept.  4,  1849. 
1 


2  FAITH    AND   PIIILOSOPHY. 

feel,  to  see,  or  to  forbode  the  coming  of  a  conflict  between 
the  mightiest  powers  that  sway  the  destiny  of  man.  There 
may,  indeed,  be  those  to  whom,  through  grace,  it  is  given,  in 
the  ripeness  of  an  impregnable  conviction,  or  in  what  Milton 
calls  the  "undeflowered  and  nnblemishable  "  simplicity  of  a 
gnileless  and  unquestioning  faith  to  live  in  unruffled  seren- 
ity ;  ever  to  see  the  guiding  star  and  never  to  feel  the  insur- 
gent billows.  Blessed  are  they  in  the  repose  of  their  faith  ; 
intolerant  of  the  spirit  of  the  hour,  because  conscious  of  hav- 
ing the  truth  which  is  eternal.  But  most  of  us,  if  not  our- 
selves assailed  by  doubts,  or  if  through  divine  love  delivered 
from  their  thraldom,  cannot  fail  to  see  the  ravages  they  are 
making  upon  others,  and  minds,  too,  of  noble  as  well  as  of 
ignoble  mould  and  temper. 

We  see  the  orthodox  system,  and  Christianity  itself,  super- 
seded by  ethical,  by  social,  and  by  metaph3'sical  systems ;  we 
see  it  losing  not  only  its  traditionary,  but  also  its  intellectual 
hold,  over  many  a  sincere  mind.  Its  sacred  language  is  con- 
verted to  profane  aiid  philosophic  use.  Its  venerable  sym- 
bols, the  lawful  heritage  of  the  church,  won  by  ages  of  con- 
flict, are  made  to  yield  a  new  sense.  Social  reforms  are 
made  the  media  of  indirect,  when  not  of  open  attack.  Each 
new  science  puts  in  its  claim  to  modify  some  part  of  the 
sacred  record.  Our  American  propensity  to  submit  all 
opinions  to  new  examination,  and  all  institutions  to  new  ex- 
pei'iment,  favors  such  tendencies.  The  current  English  philo- 
sophy, when  it  does  not  pass  Christianity  wholly  by,  pays  it 
but  a  distant  reverence  ;  the  French  philosophy  is  at  the 
best  vague  in  its  admiration ;  the  German  speculations 
threaten  its  annihilation.  Many  who  do  not  definitely  doubt, 
are  still  half-conscious  of 

"  That  first  slight  swerving  of  the  heart, 
Which  words  are  powerless  to  express." 

Christianity  is  to  them  no  longer  the  sun  which  rules  the 
day,  revealing  all  things  in  their  true  light,  and  guiding  man 
through  the  waking  hours  of  his  hard  and  varied  toil ;  but 


ORDER   OF    THE   DISCUSSION. 


like  tlie  paler  moon  it  comes,  when  at  all,  in  borrowed 
brightness,  clothing  all  objects  in  an  uncertain  light,  admired 
by  the  more  susceptible,  and  having  for  its  chief  office  to 
guard  the  hours  of  our  repose.  As  the  ardent  and  versatile 
Lamennais  has  represented  it,  before  the  intellect  and  science 
of  the  age,  our  faith  is  now  arraigned,  as  was  once  its  regal 
founder  before  the  representative  of  the  mightiest  power  of 
ancient  times ;  and  it  is  met  on  all  sides  by  the  question : 
Art  thou  a  king  ?  And  how  shall  it  show  that  it  can  really 
respond,  I  am  the  king  of  truth  ;  in  me  is  the  highest  truth, 
the  wise  philosophy  ? 

The  subject  to  which  we  are  thus  led,  the  Kelations  of 
Faith  and  Philosophy,  is  one  which  lies  at  the  heart  of  all 
the  questions  of  our  times,  and  forms  their  sum  and  strength, 
their  "  pith  and  puissance."  Let  me  then  ask  your  sympathy 
in  the  boldness,  if  not  your  approbation  of  the  wisdom  of  the 
attempt  to  unfold  the  characteristics  and  the  true  relations 
of  faith  and  philosophy.  Let  me  hope  that  our  faith  receive 
no  detriment,  even  if  your  reason  receive  no  instruction  ; 
and  if  the  hand  fail  of  its  steadiness,  still  believe  that  the 
heart  was  right. 

It  is  proposed  to  conduct  the  discussion  by  first  describing 
the  characteristics  of  faith  and  philosophy  ;  then,  by  show- 
ing their  opposition  ;  next,  by  inquiring  whether  they  are 
really  exclusive  of  each  other ;  and  if  tliis  should  seem  not 
to  be  the  case,  by  stating  in  conclusion,  what  we  conceive  to 
be  their  relative  position,  and  the  rightful  claims  of  each. 

1.  Faith,  in  its  widest  usage,  designates  a  conviction  in 
the  reality  of  things  unseen  and  eternal  ;  in  a  more  religious 
sense,  it  is  trust  in  God  and  God's  word  ;  in  a  more  specific 
and  theological  meaning,  it  embraces  the  articles  of  belief 
drawn  out  into  a  definite  system  ;  in  its  most  specific  and 
evangelical  sense,  it  denf)tes  that  full  reliance  upon  Christ, 
by  which  we  become  partakers  of  the  salvation  whicli  he 
alone  has  purchased  for  the  human  race. 

In  all  these  senses,  excepting  the  first,  it  has  certain  marked 
traits,  by  which  it  is  distinguished  from  philosophy.     It  rests 


4  FAITH    AND   PiriLOSOI'HT. 

upon  authority,  upon  good,  uj^on  the  highest  authority,  but 
still  upon  authority, — confirmed,  indeed,  by  experience,  but 
it  is  tlie  authority,  and  not  the  experience,  which  is  ultimate 
and  supreme.  That  authority  is  divine  and  decisive  ;  it  is 
the  very  vrord  of  God  recorded  in  the  Scriptures.  As  face 
answers  to  face  in  a  glass,  so  does  faith  to  the  Bible,  which  it 
receives,  both  in  history  and  in  doctrine  ;  and  it  is  not  so 
anxious  to  harmonize  the  parts  as  to  imbibe  the  whole.  It 
connects  all  things  directly  with  the  providence  of  God  ;  to 
this  it  is  ever  submissive.  It  is  content  with  miracles,  and  it 
accepts  raj'steries ;  it  says,  God  alone  is  wise ;  here  we  see  as 
through  a  glass,  darkly ;  there  we  shall  know  as  we  are 
known.  With  the  scholastic  it  has  sometimes  been  willing 
to  say,  I  believe,  because  it  is  impossible  ;  or,  with  Lord 
Bacon,  "  By  how  much  any  divine  mystery  is  revolting  and 
incredible,  so  much  the  more  honor  do  I  render  to  God  in 
believing  it ;  and  so  much  the  nobler  is  the  victory  of  our 
faith."  In  such  self -forgetful  trust  it  finds,  too,  a  deep  de- 
light, as  well  as  a  sure  support.  In  Scripture  and  in  prayer, 
tliere  are  rivers  of  pleasure,  fountains  which  never  fail,  peace 
unutterable.  Unregenerate  is  the  heart  that  has  never  known 
such  moods ;  unsanctified  the  soul  that  does  not  ever  sink  to 
its  rest  upon  them.  All  doubt  is  merged  in  this  exulting 
confidence  ;  it  flits  only  over  its  surface,  as  the  breeze  sweeps 
the  luxuriant  field  of  grain  ;  nay,  it  may  but  serve  to  quicken 
faith  with  a  sublimer  energy,  to  add  volume  and  exhilaration 
to  its  deep-felt  joy.  And  as  doubt  does  not  enfeeble,  so  dan- 
ger does  not  awe  it ;  for  omnipotence  is  with  it.  In  death 
also  it  may  delight,  for  it  will  then  be  delivered  from  sin,  its 
only  real  enemy  ;  it  will  be  wholly  sanctified,  its  only  real 
good;  and  through  eternity  it  will  ever  behold  the  face  of 
Him,  with  whom  every  fibre  of  the  soul's  inmost  life  is  inter- 
twined. 

Such  is  faith  ;  it  is  called  a  life,  and  it  is  worthy  of  the 
name  of  life,  it  is  so  full  and  satisfying.  The  man  who 
has  it  would  as  soon  doubt  whether  his  body  were  animated  by 
the  life  of  nature,  when  he  is  conscious  of  the  movements  of 


nilLOSOPlIY    THE    PRODUCT    OF    HUMAN    THOUGHT.  5 

its  muscles  in  their  most  strenuous  efforts,  and  of  the  full 
delights  of  nervous  sensation,  as  he  would  doubt  whether  his 
soul  were  a  partaker  of  spiritual  life,  when  its  powers  are 
expanded  to  their  utmost  intensity  of  action  and  of  blessed- 
ness, by  the  gracious  truths  which  centre  in  the  person  of  our 
Lord. 

Turn  we  now  to  philosophy.  This  is  the  product  of  human 
thought,  acting  upon  the  data  given  by  the  world  without  or 
the  world  within,  and  eliciting  from  these  data  principles, 
laws,  and  sj'stem.  It  is  not  the  whole  of  human  knowledge, 
but  a  special  mode  of  that  knowledge,  the  knowing  things 
rationally ;  the  knowing  them  in  their  ideas,  their  causes, 
their  successions,  and  their  ends.  Common  experience  gives 
us  things  in  their  isolation  and  independence ;  philosophy  in 
their  similarity,  harmony,  and  unity.  It  starts  with  facts,  but 
with  them  abides  not ;  it  seeks  for  law,  for  all  law,  for  the 
laws  of  matter,  of  mind,  and  of  the  universe.  It  demands 
necessary  truth,  eternal  and  immutable  laws ;  by  these  it 
judges  all  things,  and  a  severe  logic  is  the  instrument  by 
which  the  test  is  applied.  It  does  not  like  exceptions,  it  is 
intolerant  of  mysteries,  it  abhors  contradictions.  It  strives 
to  account  for  things,  for  all  things.  It  seeks  a  harmonious 
whole.  It  may  begin  with  wonder,  as  both  Plato  and  Aris- 
totle taught ;  but  it  ends  in  system,  as  both  Plato  and  Aris- 
totle have  exemplified.  And  in  proportion  to  the  compre- 
hensiveness, consistency,  and  exactitude  of  the  system,  is  the 
aspiration  of  the  philosophic  intellect  satisfied.  What  faith 
is  to  the  believer,  that,  as  has  been  said,  his  system  is  apt  to 
become  to  the  philosopher.  lie  exults  in  it  with  a  keen,  in- 
tellectual delight.  The  laws  of  nature  become  to  him  the 
elder  oracles,  which  have  a  voice  to  him  that  questions  them, 
though  silent  to  all  others  ;  which  are  ever  profound,  and 
ever  present.  In  the  calm  and  sure  order,  the  unwearied 
and  inflexible  processes,  the  successive  developments  of  lui- 
ture  and  of  the  race,  in  the  unseen  yet  irresistible  laws  of 
being  and  of  motion,  many  a  philosopher  finds  all  his  idea! 
realized ;  he  calls  this  system  of  things  infinite  and  divine  ; 


6  FAITH   AND   PHILOSOPHY. 

loving  law,  he  forgets  the  source  of  its  energy;  resting  in  his 
system,  he  thinks  not  of  God. 

So  diverse  are  faith  and  philosophy.  The  one  is  a  simple 
act  of  a  trust ;  the  other  a  reflective  process  ;  the  one  rests 
in  fa(;ts  and  persons,  the  other  in  law  and  system.  The  for- 
mer sa3's,  I  must  believe  in  order  to  know ;  the  latter,  I  must 
know  in  order  to  believe,  and  then,  it  not  seldom  adds,  there 
is  no  need  of  believing.  This  says,  it  is  so,  using  the  lan- 
guage of  authority  ;  that  asks,  how  is  it  so  ?  using  the  lan- 
guage of  inquir}^  Revelation  is  the  boast  of  faith,  reason  of 
philosophy.  The  latter  in  second  causes  forgets  the  first,  the 
former  would  even  abolish  the  second,  that  it  might  magnify 
the  great  First  Cause.  Philosophy  ignores  providence  so 
long  as  it  can  find  a  law  ;  to  the  eye  of  faith,  even  miracles 
are  a  welcome  evidence  of  the  personal  energy  of  God,  break- 
ing in,  with  wise  design,  upon  the  too  fixed  order  of  a  sinful 
world.  The  former  would  rather  confess  ignorance  than  be- 
lief ;  the  latter,  though  ignorant,  ever  trusts.  Prayer  is  the 
delight  of  the  one,  the  enigma  of  the  other.  In  reading  the 
passage  :  "  He  that  hath  the  Son,  hath  life ;  "  philosophy 
asks,  who  is  the  Son  ;  what  is  his  relation  to  the  Father ;  is 
it  inherent,  or  in  the  manifestation  alone ;  what  is  this  life  ; 
is  it  figurative  or  essential :  while  faith  welcomes  the  inspired 
words  with  glad  assent,  they  are  the  very  words  it  needs,  its 
heart  is  attuned  to  their  gracious  import.  The  one  knows 
no  l(jve  too  great  for  Jesus,  the  other  is  willing  to  make 
him  a  partaker  even  of  human  sinfulness,  that  it  may  be 
exalted  above  the  necessity  of  trusting  in  him.  And,  to 
sum  up  all  in  a  word  ;  faith  sees  God  everywhere,  espe- 
cially in  the  Scriptures :  while  philosophy  so  long  as  it 
can  find  law  and  system,  asks  not  for  God.  Law  is  the 
word  of  the  one,  God  of  the  other ;  and  these  are  their  two 
extremes. 

II.  Such  being  their  contrasted  characteristics,  it  is  hardly 
possible  but  that  they  should  sometimes  take  the  attitude  of 
extreme  opposition. 

Faith,  then,  jealous  for  the  honor  of  her  God,  and  feeling 


THE    CHARGE    AGAINST    PHILOSOPHY.  7 

that  her  all  is  at  stake,  approaches  philosophy  with  the  mien 
of  one  inspired  by  a  divine  impulse,  and  says  : 

I  have  nourished  and  brought  you  up,  and  j^ou  have  re- 
belled against  me  !  From  the  old  traditions  of  the  race  you 
received  those  primal  truths  which  you  now  claim  as  the 
birth -right  of  human  reason.  Greece  had  them  from  the 
Orient,  where  they  were  cradled.  Germany  from  the  gospel 
it  has  renounced.  You  have  always  been  an  ingrate,  denying 
your  very  parentage :  you  have  always  been  a  rebel,  defiant 
of  authority  ;  you  have  always  been  a  sceptic,  doubting  the 
best  accredited  facts.  Aiming  after  unity,  you  are  facile  to 
deny  the  obstinate  facts ;  seeking  for  universality,  you  call 
partial  knowledge  universal ;  the  real  unity  and  universality 
are  found  only  in  God,  whom  you  banish  from  your  systems. 
Of  all  heresy  and  division  you  with  depravity  have  been  the 
fruitful  parents  ;  from  the  times  of  the  Gnostics  to  the  times 
of  the  Germans,  you  have  vexed  the  church  by  irrever- 
ent questions,  which  no  man  is  able  to  answer.  Strong  only 
in  undermining,  you  have  never  been  able  to  make  a  system 
which  could  survive  the  "  shock  of  time,  the  insults  of  the 
elements,"  the  providence  of  God  and  the  might  of  his 
church.  Your  towers  have  been  as  Babel,  on  the  plain  of 
Shinar,  and  the  act  of  building  has  been  ever  followed  by  the 
confusion  of  tongues.  From  pagan  lands,  unillumined,  you 
came  in  the  name  of  Aristotle,  and  brought  subtle  sophistries, 
and,  in  the  name  of  Plato,  ideal  reveries,  and  substituted 
these  for  the  simplicity  of  the  gospel.  Into  the  depths  of 
materialism  you  have  seduced  the  heaven-born  soul ;  to  the 
heights  of  idealism  you  have  carried  man,  borne  on  visionary 
pinions  ;  and  in  the  depths  you  have  found  only  a  sepulchre, 
and  from  the  heights  discerned  only  an  unfilled  and  trackless 
void.  In  the  pride  of  reason,  you  forget  the  reality  of  sin. 
You  weave  around  man  a  labyrinthine  web,  and  leave  him 
there  without  a  clue,  to  die  without  a  hope.  Nature  you  rob 
of  its  vital  energy;  instead  of  a  kind  providence, you  give  us 
only  an  unpitying  law  ;  instead  of  a  Redeemer,  an  abstract 
system,  which  has  neither  life  nor  love.     Under  your  iron, 


8  FAITH    AND   PHILOSOPHY. 

icy  reign,  crushed  are  tlie  heart's  best  affections,  unsatisfied 
its  deepest  wants  ;  gone,  forever  gone,  its  most  needed  conso- 
lations. All  the  glorious  forms  with  whicli  grace  environed 
us,  you  have  touched  with  your  magic  wand,  and  they  have 
shrivelled,  like  the  leaf  before  the  frost:  you  leave  us  only 
this  poor,  shifting  world  :  you  leave  us  to  despair. 

For  us,  then,  there  is  no  possibility  even  of  a  truce.  It  is 
war  and  only  war :  it  is  faith  or  philosophy;  a  disjunctive 
proposition,  a  vital  dilemma.  And  you,  born  of  groping 
reason,  must  submit  to  my  celestial  rights. 

Challenged  by  such  an  adversary,  philosophy,  ever  ready 
to  respond,  takes  up  the  word,  and,  as  is  her  wont,  begins  in 
a  more  modest,  and  ends  in  a  more  confident  tone : 

"  Sure,  he  that  made  us  with  such  large  discourse, 
Looking  before  and  after,  gave  us  not 
That  capability  and  god-like  reason 
To  rust  in  us  unused. " 

In  your  unwise  zeal,  you  charge  all  philosophy  with  the 
extravagances  of  the  few,  forgetful  of  the  services  of  the 
many.  In  the  flush  of  a  new  system,  I  may  have  been  your 
opponent ;  maturer  thoughts  have  usually  made  me  your  ally. 
Without  my  aid  how  could  man  know,  without  my  weapons 
how  defend,  even  a  revelation.  AVhen  yourself  attacked  you 
use  me  in  your  defence,  if  you  do  not  rely  upon  bare  asser- 
tion or  unwise  denunciation.  Without  me  you  are  a  mystic 
or  a  fanatic.  In  the  early  church  I  aided  in  expelling  super- 
stitions ;  I  sharpened  your  weapons,  and  burnished  your 
armor.  The  precision  of  your  theological  terms  is  owing  to 
my  logic ;  your  accredited  formulas  of  doctrine  could  never 
have  been  built  up  without  my  hard  toil.  Those  systems  of 
theology  which  have  been  your  boast  and  your  defence  are 
among  the  ripest  products  of  philosophic  culture.  When  the 
apostle  speaks  of  the  "opposition  of  science,  falsely  so  called," 
does  he  not  imply  that  there  is  a  science,  truly  to  be  so  called 't 
And  that  same  God  who  gave  to  man  the  illumination  of  his 
Spiiit,  did  he  not  also  give  the  light  of  reason,  and  give  rea- 


PHILOSOPHIC    TENDENCIES    IN    OPPOSITION    TO    FAITH.  9 

son  first,  and  reason  always,  and  reason  nnto  all :  and,  even 
if  it  be  granted,  that  the  highest  joys  of  the  heart  are  found 
only  in  submission  to  his  revealed  will,  yet  it  must  also  be 
conceded  that  the  chief  delight  of  reason  is  in  philosopliy. 

Thus  would  philosophy  speak  in  the  language  of  apology  ; 
but  it  has  other  words  when  it  accepts  the  formula  faith  or 
philosophy.  And  there  are  four  chief  tendencies  of  oui 
times  in  which  its  deliberate  and  conscious  opposition  to 
faith  is  manifest. 

The  first  is  that  in  wdiich  all  certainty  is  found  in  the  facts 
and  laws  of  the  material  world.  The  laws  and  analogies  of 
nature  are  forced  to  explain  the  laws  of  mind  and  of  morals. 
Ethics  and  metapliysics  are  subordinated  to  what  is  dogmat- 
ically called  positive  science.  To  conform  to  natural  laws, 
and  not  to  transgress  them  is  esteemed  the  great  end.  Law 
has  no  sanctions  excepting  the  direct  consequences  of  obedi- 
ence or  transgression.  The  harmony  of  man  with  nature  is 
the  great  ideal,  is  the  perfect  state.  There  is  no  law  reach- 
ing beyond  this  life.  This  w^orld  is  the  boundary  of  all  real 
human  hope  and  of  all  well-founded  human  fear.  All  else 
is  doubtful. 

The  second  form  utters  its  oracles  in  a  higher  mood ;  it 
recognizes  justice  and  love  and  the  brotherhood  of  the  race 
as  great  ends.  It  would  relieve  the  wretched  ;  give  man  his 
rights;  introduce  a  new  social  state.  It  is  animated  by 
humane  principles,  and  seeks  great  moral,  though  worldly 
ends.  These  it  believes  in  ;  these  it  judges  to  be  effective 
and  sufficient.  It  has  faith,  but  a  faith  which  centres  in 
humanity,  and  not  in  a  personal  God  or  an  incarnate  Re- 
deemer. It  seeks  a  kingdom  ;  but  is  a  kingdom  wdiich  is  to 
be  of  this  world,  though  it  is  not  yet  in  the  world.  Its 
heaven,  the  only  one  which  is  certain,  is  to  be  realized  on 
earth. 

There  is  a  third  tendency  more  religious  in  its  language, 
and  which  may  be  and  is  combined  with  these  others,  though 
as  a  tendency  it  is  distinct.  God,  it  says,  is  to  be  loved 
and  served ;  he  can  be  loved.     But,  it  is  argued,  if  I  have 


10  FAITH    AND    PHILOSOPHY. 

that  love  wliich  is  the  very  essence  of  all  religion,  what  need  I 
more  ?  How  can  it  aid  or  mar  this  love  to  believe  in  a 
Bible,  a  Trinity,  an  external  atonement  and  such  long  con- 
fessions of  doctrine  ?  The  state  of  the  heart  is  all.  You  call 
the  Bible  inspired,  so  am  I ;  you  call  it  a  revelation,  I  have 
one  within,  more  constant  and  persuasive.  Such  a  mind 
contemplates  the  grand  and  distinctive  realities  of  the  Chris- 
tian faith,  as  we  gaze  upon  the  sculptured  gods  of  a  Grecian 
temple;  we  maybe  lost  in  wonder  and  enraptured  by  their 
beauty  ;  but  they  have  for  the  soul  no  divine  reality,  as  object 
of  faith  and  love ;  they  are  memorials  of  an  antiquated  su- 
perstition ;  we  have  thought  and  felt  above  and  beyond  them, 
we  cannot  find  our  whole  selves  in  them. 

The  fourth  form  of  philosophic  unbelief  is  the  pantheistic  ; 
and  this  combines  in  itself  elements  from  all  the  others. 
Here  philosophy,  as  though  conscious  of  its  full  power,  asserts 
its  absolute  supremacy.  By  the  assumed  universality  of  its 
principles,  the  undeniable  comprehensiveness  of  its  aims, 
the  rigoi'  of  its  logic,  and  the  steadiness  of  its  processes ; 
by  its  high  ideal  character;  by  its  claim  to  be  the  result 
of  the  concentrated,  thought  of  the  race,  and  to  contain  in 
itself  all  that  is  essential  in  the  Christian  faith,  and  to  give 
the  law  and  the  explanation  to  all  other  sciences ;  this  system 
seizes  with  an  almost  demoniacal  power  upon  minds  tliat 
would  laugh  to  scorn  the  dreamy  fantasies  of  the  East,  tliat 
see  the  rottenness  of  bare  materialism  and  that  feel  something 
of  the  inherent  might  of  Christianity.  Never  did  a  philo- 
sophical system  take  such  an  attitude  towards  the  Christian 
faith  ;  it  does  not  make  it  a  superstition,  as  did  atheism ;  it 
does  not  neglect  it,  as  does  our  popular  philosophy ;  it  does 
not  scout  its  mysteries,  as  does  an  irrational  common-sense; 
nor  does  it  attenuate  it  into  a  mere  ethical  system ;  but  it 
grants  it  to  be  the  highest  possible  form  of  man's  religious 
nature,  it  strives  to  transform  its  grandest  truths  into  philo- 
sophical principles  ;  it  says  that  only  one  thing  is  higher, 
and  that  is  pantheism.  It  claims  to  have  transnnited  Chris- 
tianity into  philosophy,  and  to  stand   above  it,  triumphant, 


PHILOSOPHY    IN    ITS    PANTHEISTIC    MOOD.  11 

dominant,  exultant.  And  thus  it  is  the  most  daring,  subtle, 
consistent,  destructive  and  energetic  philosophy  which  ever 
reared  its  front  against  the  Christian  faith.  It  has  tlie  merit 
of  recognizing  the  grandeur  of  Christianity  ;  it  has  the  auda- 
city to  boast  that  itself  is  more  sublime.  It  professes  to  have 
systematized  all  thonght ;  to  have  possession  of  the  aboriginal 
substance  and  the  perfect  law  of  its  development ;  to  be  able 
to  unfold  all  our  ideas  in  their  right  connections,  and  to 
explain  nature,  mind,  art,  history,  all  other  philosophies,  and 
also  Christianity.  All  this,  it  says,  is  but  the  unfolding  of 
its  own  inner  life.  It  weaves  its  subtle  dialectics  around 
everything,  that  thus  it  may  drag  all  into  its  terrific  vortex.' 
It  has  a  word  for  almost  every  man  excepting  for  the  Chris- 
tian established  in  his  faith.  By  the  very  extravagance  of 
its  pretensions  it  seduces  many ;  by  its  harmony  with  the  life 
of  sense  it  attracts  those  who  love  the  world  ;  and  by  its  ideal 
character  it  sways  such  as  wT»uld  fain  be  lifted  above  the  illu- 
sions of  sense  and  the  visions  of  imagination,  and  the  contra- 
dictions of  the  understanding,  into  a  region  of  rarer  air 
where  reason  sways  a  universal  sceptre.  Its  system  includes 
all  things.  God  is  all  things ;  or  rather  all  is  God  ;  he  tliat 
knows  this  system  knows  and  has  God.  And  it  claims  that 
it  thus  gives  a  higher  idea  of  deity  than  when  he  is  limited 
by  a  definite  personality;  assuming,  without  any  philosophi- 
cal ground,  that  personality  is  in  its  very  nature  finite,  and 
cannot  be  connected  with  infinite  attributes.  It  professes  to 
give  man  a  system  which  shall  make  him  wise  and  it  is  v\'itli 
the  oldest  temptation,  ye  shall  be  as  gods. 

Thus  does  philosophy,  in  its  most  daring  mood  accept  the 
alternative,  philosophy  or  faith  ;  and  it  gives  us  the  choice  be- 
tween Cln-ist  and  Spinoza.  And  this  is  the  great  alternative 
of  our  times. 

III.  Leaving  these  two  powers,  for  the  present,  in  this  at- 
titude of  opposition,  we  next  inquire  whether  they  can  be 
rationally  held  to  be  utterly  exclusive  of  each  other. 

It  is  said,  for  example,  in  faith  is  the  only  certainty  ;  all 
philosophy  is  dangerous  ;   the  natural  tendency  of  scientific 


12  FAITH    AND    PHILOSOPHY. 

research  is  against  revelation  ;  man  is  so  depraved  tliat  tliougb 
a  true  philosophy  were  a  great  good,  it  is  irrational  to  ex- 
pect it. 

And  it  is  undeniable  that  much  modern  speculation,  both 
physical  and  metaphysical,  is  opposed  to  revelation  ;  and  that 
all  systems  and  principles  which  would  explain  nature  with- 
out a  God,  and  man's  destiny  without  Christianity,  so  far  as 
they  logically  lead  to  these  results,  are  an  unmixed  evil  and 
ought  to  be  exposed  and  opposed. 

But  how  opposed  ?  Philosophically,  or  otherwise  ?  Pie 
who  will  answer  this  question  fairly  will  take  the  only  correct 
ground.  It  is,  we  will  say,  an  objection  to  the  personality  of 
God.  How  shall  we  meet  it  ?  Shall  we  simply  assert  that 
we  believe  in  the  divine  personality' ;  that  the  Bible  speaks 
of  God  as  a  personal  agent  ?  Or  shall  we  not  rather  strive  to 
show  on  the  strictest  philosophical  grounds  that  the  idea  of 
a  personal  God  is  the  most  rational ;  that  without  it  we  can- 
not really  explain  the  origin  or  the  order  of  the  universe ;  and 
that  it  is  a  mere  assumption  to  assert,  that  personality  is  in  its 
very  nature  finite — since  it  is  the  finiteness  of  man's  attri- 
butes, and  that  alone,  which  gives  the  finiteness  to  his  person- 
ality. But  if  we  do  this  we  are  entering  upon  a  philosophi- 
cal discussion.  And  would  it  not  be  unfortunate  to  have  taken 
at  the  outset  a  position  against  all  philosophy,  which  would 
oidy  serve  to  throw  doubt  over  our  own  argument  ?  Is  there 
not  ground  for  a  calm  distinction  between  philosophy  and 
and  false  philosophy.  We  may  deny  the  possibility  of  a 
perfect  system  ;  we  may  show  that  faith  is  necessary ;  yet,  is 
it  not  unwise  to  doubt,  or  to  seem  to  doubt,  or  to  say  anything 
that  would  imply  that  we  ever  thought  of  seeming  to  doubt, 
that  we  might  attain  entire  certainty  on  some  points,  and 
those,  too,  the  most  important  which  man  can  discuss  ?  Is  not 
any  other  position  suicidal  ? 

And  thei-efore  do  we  maintain  that  our  ground  should  be, 
that  faith  and  philosophy  are  not  inherently  opposed,  but  in- 
herently at  one  ;  and  that  this  should  be  our  pervading  senti- 
ment, influencing  our  theology,  our  philosophy,  our  preach- 


WHAT   FOLLOWS    A    FALSE    POSITION^.  13 

ing,  our  every-day  discussions ;  and  that  this  is  a  position  of 
prime  necessity,  now  more  than  ever. 

For,  if  this  be  not  so,  the  bitterest  sneers  of  a  Hume  were 
all  true;  fortified  is  the  balanced  satire  of  a  Gibbon.  He 
who  lately  wrote  in  a  widely  circulated  Review :  "  that  almost 
all  sects  have  agreed  to  divorce  religion  from  reasoning  and 
to  exalt  faith  by  contemning  philosophy,  and  that  they  thus 
have  left  all  works  of  divinity  in  the  hands  of  one  class  of 
writers  and  of  one  class  of  readers,"  might  maintain  his  vitu- 
peration by  our  own  confessions.  Can  that  which  is  the  dex- 
trous and  sinister  policy  of  our  enemies  be  a  prudent  position 
for  ourselves  ? 

If  this  be  not  so,  then  we  give  over  the  whole  field  of 
modern  scientific  research,  both  in  nature  and  in  mind,  entire 
and  unguarded,  to  be  the  grand  arena,  the  pride,  the  honor 
and  the  power  of  infidelity.  We  virtually  say,  that  to  its 
benefit  shall  enure  the  fruit  and  glory  of  the  sciences.  And 
thus  many  minds,  not  faithless,  yet  not  believing,  who  know 
that  science  has  gained  and  garnered  up  some  solid  truth,  are 
only  re23el led  from  a  candid  examination  of  the  truths  of 
our  faith. 

If  this  be  not  so,  then,  further,  it  is  difficult  to  see  the  wis- 
dom of  that  constitution  of  our  being  by  which  we  are  made 
cognizant  of  rational  truth,  as  well  as  susceptible  to  the 
authority  of  religion. 

If  this  be  not  so,  then  do  we,  in  virtue  of  this  constitution, 
deliver  over  the  human  mind  to  perpetual  uncertainty,  to  an 
intestine  war.  And  such  a  war  is  not  like  the  conflict  between 
sin  and  holiness,  for  sin  is  that  which  ought  not  to  be,  and  in 
overcoming  it,  man  is  restored  to  himself  as  well  as  to  his 
God  ;  but,  in  the  other  case,  prime  elements  of  man's  essen- 
tial nature  are  set  at  variance,  the  foes  are  they  of  his  own 
household  ;  and  they  are  contending  not  upon  points  of  in- 
ferior moment,  but  upon  the  most  vital  interests  of  man. 
And  so  we  are  in  danger  of  leavino-  it  to  be  inferred  with  the 
schoolman,  that  one  may  hold  to  a  truth  with  all  the  energy 
of  faith,  which  is  opposed  by  all   the  arguments  of  reason. 


li  FAITH    AND   PHILOSOPHY. 

We  shall  oscillate  like  the  German  who  declared :  "  philo- 
sophy plunges  me  into  the  arms  of  faith,  and  faith  sends  me 
back  into  the  arms  of  philosophy ;  ni}^  spirit  is  a  ball  playing 
between  these  two  extremes."  If  the  soul  for  a  moment  be 
delighted  with  the  enrapturing  visions  of  faith,  the  next 
thought  will  be,  these  gorgeous  palaces  may  be  dissolved, 
and  leave  only  a  wreck  behind.  And  thus  the  mind  will  be 
more  ready  to  infer  that  all  things  are  uncertain  than  that 
faitli  alone  is  sure,  it  is  better  prepared  for  scepticism  than  for 
trust,  if  it  cannot  hold,  as  an  unassailable  conviction,  that 
reason  and  faith  may  be  reconciled. 

But  this  position  is  not  only  inconsistent  with  the  rightful 
claims  of  reason,  it  is  also  repugnant  to  the  real  necessities 
and  nature  of  faith.  While  it  makes  us  traitors  to  the  one  it 
only  dishonors  the  other.  A  faith  which  we  do  not  believe 
in  the  very  depths  of  our  hearts  to  be  rational,  to  contain  in 
itself  the  sum  and  substance  of  all  philosophy,  is  a  faith  which 
no  thinking  man  can  rationally  hold  ;  and  if  he  holds  it  irra- 
tionally, it  cannot  long  maintain  its  sway.  "  Faith  may  pre- 
cede intellect."  as  Augustine  says,  but  it  involves  intellect. 
It  has  its  grounds,  reasons  and  relations.  "  It  appears  to  me 
a  negligence,"  are  the  words  of  Auselra,  "  if  after  we  are  con- 
firmed in  the  faith  we  do  not  study  to  understand  what  we 
believe."  If  a  Christian  man  does  not  really  hold  that  his 
system  of  faith  has  a  fimner  basis,  a  nobler  end,  a  more  puis- 
sant energy,  that  it  solves  more  vital  problems,  and  is  adapted 
to  man's  nature  in  a  fuller  sense  than  any  other  system,  that 
it  is  the  highest  reason  as  well  as  the  only  redempition,  and 
the  highest  reason  because  the  only  redemption,  he  virtually 
confesses  that  a  greater  than  Christ  is  here.  We  rob  faith  of 
one  of  its  strongest  persuasions  if  we  do  not  claim  that  it  is 
perfectly  rational. 

Faith,  too,  has  its  extremes  and  perils ;  and  philosophy  is 
needed  as  a  counteracting  element.  It  may  degenerate  into 
formality,  or  be  sublimated  into  mysticism,  or  glow  with  fanat- 
ical fire.  As  faith  without  works  is  dead,  being  alone,  so  faith 
without  knowledge  may  be  superstitious,  being  unchecked. 


OFFICE    OF    REASON    IN    THE    GUARDIANSHIP    OF   FAITH.        15 

The  divine  Spirit  alone  can  indeed  save  from  this  and  every 
error,  into  which  man's  blind  and  passionate  nature  is  prone 
to  fall ;  but  does  he  not  often  do  it,  by  raising  the  calm  voice 
of  reason,  the  limitations  of  reflection,  and  the  power  of  sys- 
tem against  the  erratic  impulses  of  an  unregulated  belief. 
Knowledge  without  faith  is  indeed  cold  ;  but  faith  without 
knowledge  is  often  blind.  It  may  become  the  servant  of 
passion,  and  speak  the  language  of  bigotry,  if  it  have  not  rea- 
son for  its  handmaid.  Faith  may  be  likened  to  the  element 
of  heat,  whose  central  source  is  above,  and  whose  subtle  agency 
pervades  all  the  parts  of  this  wondrous  whole — the  generator 
of  life,  without  which  all  that  grows  would  decay,  and  all  that 
lives  would  die  ;  while  reason,  like  the  other  element  of  water, 
stands  at  the  two  extremes,  to  guard  the  life  which  only  heat 
can  generate.  When  the  heat  becomes  excessive,  water  evapo- 
rates, and  in  this  very  process  envelo23es,  innocuous,  the  fiery 
particles,  which  else  would  consume  every  living  thing,  and 
so  it  guards  life  at  this  extreme ;  and  when  winter  comes, 
water  congeals,  and,  in  its  very  congelation,  sends  out  its 
latent  Avarmth  to  animate  the  forms  that  otherwise  would  per- 
ish, and  so  it  guards  life  at  this  extreme  also.  And  even  thus, 
it  seems  to  me,  we  may  say  of  human  reason,  that  it  has  a 
two-fold  office  in  the  guardianship  of  faith;  from  the  ex- 
treme of  formality  it  may  quicken  it  into  a  new  life  by  the 
stimulus  of  argument,  and,  by  unfolding  the  symmetry  and 
sublimity  of  the  creed  which  is  repeated  with  cold  lips ;  and, 
in  the  other  extreme  of  unhallowed  glow,  it  may  guard  it,  not 
only  by  the  restraints  of  prudence,  but  also  by  the  pervading 
and  calm  influence  of  a  profound  and  clear  exhibition  o£  all 
the  parts  and  checks  of  the  Christian  system. 

We  may  add,  that  an  intimate  persuasion  of  the  inherent 
unanimity  of  faith  and  reason  has  been  a  prominent  trait  of 
the  grandest  intellects  of  the  Christian  Church.  Philosophy 
they  have  repelled  by  philosophy.  Such  was  Augustine, 
when  he  refuted  the  vain  pretension  that  man  could  regen- 
erate himself,  not  on  grounds  of  Scripture  alone,  but  from 
the  de})ths  of  the  human  consciousness.     Such  was  Anselm 


16  FAITH   AND    PHILOSOPHY. 

of  Canterbury,  when,  at  the  hour  of  the  sacred  vigils,  there 
was  revealed  to  him  his  sublime  speculation  upon  the  being 
of  God ;  or  when,  with  holy  zeal,  he  wrote  upon  that  high 
argument,  why  did  God  become  incarnate  ?  and  first,  on  ra- 
tional grounds,  showed  the  necessity  of  an  atonement.  Such 
too  was  that  holy  French  recluse,  that  sublime  ascetic,  who 
felt  as  hardly  did  another  of  his  age,  the  intense  conflict 
between  faith  and  reason,  because  he  had  both  in  their  ful- 
ness, and  who,  in  immortal  fj-agments,  has  left  us  a  sketch  of 
a  philosophical  apology  for  Christianity,  which  has  never  been 
completed,  because  Pascal  has  had  no  successor.  The  wisest  of 
English  Christians,  while  he  elaborated  with  patient  thought, 
through  many  years,  his  unsurpassed  vindication  of  Christian- 
ity, on  the  ground  of  the  Analogies  of  nature,  was  ever  ani- 
mated by  the  conviction,  that  there  must  be  harmony  in  all 
the  works  of  God,  that  in  their  origin,  their  principles  and 
their  aims,  nature  and  Christianity  are  in  unison  ;  and  that 
this  can  be  rationally  evinced.  And  him — the  mighty  man 
of  our  New  England  theologic  host,  when,  with  capacious 
intellect  and  whole-souled  love,  he  meditated,  in  the  fairest 
village  on  the  banks  of  our  noblest  river  and  in  his  remoter 
missionary  retreat,  upon  those  two  great  problems,  which  have 
given  their  distinctive  character  to  all  our  subsequent  theo- 
logical discussions,  npon  the  Nature  of  True  Virtue,  and  the 
Freedom  of  the  Human  Will,  what  impulse  moved  him,  if  not 
the  necessity  of  bringing  the  subtlest  researches  of  human 
reason  into  harmony  with  the  truths  which  lie  at  the  basis  of 
all  piety.  Without  philosophy  how  could  he  have  attempted 
thed'econciliationof  divine  sovereignty  with  the  consciousness 
of  freedom  :  without  deep  speculative  insight  how  could  he 
have  discerned,  as  no  one  did  before  him,  the  radical  identity 
of  virtue  and  relif>;ion.  Intellect  and  faith  acted  together  in 
him,  distinct,  yet  as  consentaneous  as  are  the  principle  of  life 
and  the  organic  structure  in  our  animal  economy. 

Thus,  on  various  grounds,  we  have  contended  that  it  is  no 
sound  sense  to  say  that  faith  and  philosophy  are  foes.  On 
the  highest  grounds  it  is  fal>e  ;  on  the  lowest,  it  is  bad  policy. 


THE    TKUE    RELATIONS    OF    FAITH    AND    PIIILOSOFHY.  17 

It  is  unwise  to  do  it  even  in  the  heat  of  discussion,  even  when 
opposing  a  fatal  error,  even  to  gain  an  urgent  end.  For  we 
should  be  obliged  to  recant  before  the  first  rational  man  we 
encountered  in  calm  debate. 

ISTor  do  we  forget  either  man's  depravity,  or  the  dangers  of 
philosophy.  Man  is  depraved — alas !  that  we  should  say  it, 
man  is  depraved  ;  human  passions  are  the  source  and  defence 
of  many  a  false  system :  but  I  am  afraid  to  allow  to  depravity 
the  fearful  advantage  of  claiming  for  itself  full  possession  of 
our  intellectual  natures,  as  well  as  of  the  wish  and  the  will ; 
for  the  evidence  of  depravity  is  increased  when  we  show  that 
it  is  against  a  man's  own  reason  ;  and  we  lose  one  of  our  most 
potent  means  of  assailing  it  when  we  grant  that  reason  is  its 
bulwark  and  not  its  foe. 

And  philosophy,  too,  is  dangerous ;  all  philosophy  is  danger- 
ous. But  the  simple,  sober  fact  in  the  case  is  this,  that  there 
are  some  dangers  which  can  be  avoided  only  by  being  incurred, 
and  by  pressing  right  through  the  danger  to  the  victory. 
And  there  is  one  peril  that,  in  our  times,  is  more  imminent, 
and  that  is,  the  opposing  so  dangerous  an  enemy  as  is  false 
philosophy,  by  the  only  weapons  to  which  it  is  invulnerable. 

Our  philosophical  infidels  are  calm  men,  men  of  nerve ; 
their  infidelity'  is  not  fed  by  their  passions  alone,  nor  is  it 
vented  only  in  execrations.  They  are  men  of  thought  and 
system.  They  do  not  feel  the  force  of  a  bare  assertion  ;  they 
yield  to  no  popular  clamor;  they  fear  no  ecclesiastical  denun- 
ciation. They  are  scrutinizing  ;  and  profoundly  conscious  of 
holding  principles  which  deliberately  exclude  the  realities  of 
the  Christian  faith.  They  accept  the  philosophic  horn  of  the 
dilemma,  philosophy  or  faith ;  until  they  can  see  that  the 
formula  should  read,  faith  and  philosophy. 

lY.  And  it  is  with  this  formula  that  we  make  our  transi- 
tion to  the  foui-th  part  of  this  discussion :  and  that  is,  an 
attempt  to  exhibit  the  real  relations  and  the  rightful  claims 
of  faith  and  philosoj^hy.  To  say  that  both  have  rights,  and 
that  we  should  attempt  to  reconcile  them,  is  only  to  gain  a 
clear  field  for  the  most  important  })ortion  of  our  work,  the 
2 


18  FAITH   AND   PHILOSOPHY. 

adjustment  of  their  respective  claims,  of  their  relative  supre- 
macy. And  if  the  limits  of  the  occasion  make  it  necessary 
to  omit  much  of  great  importance,  they  may  perhaps  allow  a 
statement  of  the  points  most  needing  consideration. 

And  it  may  be  well  at  the  outset  to  disown  some  vague 
attempts  at  reconciliation  which  only  smother  the  difficulties. 
Thus  to  faith  is  assigned  one  whole  sphere.  God  and  the  Bible; 
to  philosophy  another  and  a  distinct  department,  nature  and 
the  human  mind.  But  philosophy  has  an  intense  interest  in 
God  and  the  Bible,  and  faith  cannot  do  without  man  and 
providence.    Neither  the  dispute  nor  adjustment  is  terj-itorial. 

Nor  can  we  any  better  say,  that  revelation  gives  us  all  our 
ideas  of  God  :  and  that  philosophy  must  accept  them,  without 
anvthiug  further.  For  this  either  takes  revelation  in  so  broad 
a  sense,  that  a  philosophical  infidelity  might  be  based  upon 
it ;  or  else  it  puts  man  in  a  position  in  M'iiich  we  cannot  see 
how  a  revelation  could  possibly  be  made  to  him  in  an  intel- 
ligible manner.  A  revelation  takes  for  granted  that  he  to 
whom  it  is  made  has  some  knowledge  of  God,  though  it  may 
enlarge  and  purify  that  knowledge. 

In  point  of  fact,  faitli  and  philosophy  are  employed  about 
the  same  great  subjects,  God,  man,  providence  and  human 
destiny. 

1.  But  though  employed  about  the  same  great  subjects, 
w^e  say  that  they  are  employed  about  them  in  a  different  way ; 
and  that  the  difference  in  the  mode  results  from  a  difference 
inherent  in  the  nature  of  philosophy  and  faith.  And  this  is 
the  first  aspect  in  which  their  relations  are  to  be  considered. 

What  then,  we  ask,  is  philosoph}'  ?  what  does  it  seek  ? 
what  are  its  limits  ?  And  we  answer  as  before,  philosophy  is 
a  mode  of  human  knowledge,  not  the  whole  of  that  knowl- 
edge, but  a  mode  of  it;  the  knowing  things  rationally ;  the 
knowing  them  in  their  causes,  their  relations,  and  their 
ends  ;  the  knowing  them  in  the  harmony  and  completeness 
of  a  system.  It  being  only  such  a  mode  of  knowledge,  the 
materials,  tlie  substance,  the  facts  must,  from  the  nature  of 
the  case,  exist  before  the  philosophy,  and  be  taken  for  granted 


WHAT   IS    FAITH  ?  19 

by  the  philosophy,  and  be  the  limit  and  the  test  of  the  philo" 
sophy  itself.  These  exist  independently  of  philosophy,  and 
their  reality  is,  of  course,  to  be  attested  on  independent 
grounds.  The  facts  of  the  material  or  of  the  intelligible 
world  are  the  prime  materials  of  all  philosophical  systems ; 
and  without  them  no  system  can  be  constructed.  There  is 
one  thing,  then,  against  which  speculation  is  fruitless,  and 
that  is  the  majesty  of  fact,  of  all  facts  of  the  outward  or  in- 
ward world  properly  attested.  Philosophy  may  explain  and 
systematize  realities ;  may  show  their  rational  grounds  and 
connections;  but  it  is  not  within  its  province  to  annul  an 
item  of  history,  any  phenomena  of  nature,  or  any  facts  of 
consciousness.  If  it  endeavor  to  falsify  any  reality,  duly 
attested  by  sense,  by  internal  consciousness,  or  by  valid  testi- 
mony, it  is  committing  high  treason  against  the  majesty  of 
fact.  It  may  seek  the  rational  grounds  of  all  that  is,  but  in 
doing  this  it  assumes  that  what  is,  is ;  and  so  far  as  any  sys- 
tem is  inconsistent  with  what  is,  so  far  it  is  false ;  and  so  far 
as  it  cannot  rationally  explain  what  is,  so  far  it  is  incomplete. 
And  of  all  philosophy,  Scotch  or  German,  ideal  or  empirical, 
the  independent  realities  of  nature,  of  mind,  and  of  history 
are  not  only  the  substance  and  the  strength,  but  also  the 
abiding  test ;  taken  for  granted  as  such  in  all  discussions. 

If  this  be  so,  we  ask  next,  what  is  faith,  what  does  it  claim 
to  be,  in  what  does  it  rest  ?  Faith,  internally,  is  a  state  of 
trust;  but  it  is  alwaj's  trust  in  something  external.  Its  real 
character  can  only  be  determined  by  stating  its  objects.  And 
the  Christian's  faith  reposes,  as  we  before  said,  upon  a  revela- 
tion, an  historical  revelation,  a  revelation  historically  attested, 
attested  by  miracle  and  by  prophecy  ;  a  revelation  recorded 
in  a  volume  which  claims  to  be  inspired.  It  is  not  primarily 
a  system  of  doctrines,  nor  a  confession,  nor  a  speculation  ; 
but  it  is  a  grand  historical  economy,  a  manifestation  of  God 
and  his  purposes,  an  annunciation  of  supernatural  truth  by 
natural  agencies,  by  prophets  and  teachers,  and,  last  of  all,  by 
Jesus  Christ;  a  manifestation  forming  a  part  of  human  his- 
tory, connected  and  progressive  through  thousands  of  Aears. 


20  FAITH    AND    PHILOSOPHY. 

And  all  this  series  of  revelations  comes  to  us  in  the  Scrip- 
tures, which  gives  lis  both  the  facts  and  the  divine  interpre- 
tation of  them.  Christianity  thus  claims  to  be  a  real  revela- 
tion of  God,  made  in  the  best  form  in  which  we  can  conceive  a 
revelation  to  be  made,  and  made  for  tlie  highest  ends  for  which 
a  revelation  can  be  made,  made  to  give  the  highest  and  most 
needed  knowledge,  made  to  redoem  mankind.  And  this 
Avhole  historic  revelation  bears  with  steady  and  concentrated 
aim  upon  one  person,  himself  an  historical  personage,  himself 
a  man,  in  whom  it  is  declared  that  heaven  and  earth  are 
j-econciled,  that  the  great  problems  of  human  destiny  are 
solved.  And  thus  the  Christian  religion  presents  itself  as 
adapted  to  man's  highest  wants  in  an  exclusive  sense,  and 
with  redeeming  efficacy.  This  is  the  first  aspect  of  the 
Christian  economy  ;  and  here  is  the  primary  basis  of  faith. 

But  this  is  not  all ;  for  faith  claims  an  internal  evidence, 
as  well  as  an  historical  basis.  Man  is  a  believer,  made  to 
trust.  The  infirmities  of  his  finite,  and  the  necessities  of  his 
sinful  condition,  make  faith  necessary  to  the  attainment  of 
the  great  ends  of  his  being.  And  the  Christian  finds  in  his 
own  heart  a  profound  experience,  which  fills  and  satisfies  his 
soul,  and  which  is  entirely  responsive  to  the  substance  of  the 
divine  revelation,  as  recorded  in  the  word  of  God.  And 
here  is  another  series  of  facts,  reaching  tlirough  thousands  of 
years,  embracing  men  of  every  clime  and  degree,  the  sage 
and  the  simple,  the  civilized  and  barbarian,  the  young  and 
the  mature,  the  li\-ing  and  the  dying,  who  all,  with  one  con- 
sent, testify  that  in  this  revelation  they  have  found  their 
solace  and  support,  that  it  is  the  source  of  tlie  highest  activity 
and  blessedness  of  all  their  powers.  And  in  the  experience 
of  believers  also,  all  converges  around  the  same  divine 
person,  who  is  the  centre  and  the  crown  of  the  historic 
revelation. 

Nor  is  this  all.  That  revelation,  historically  so  grand  in 
its  origin,  and  confirmed  by  human  experience,  has  also  en- 
tered into  and  controlled  the  whole  course  of  Innnan  history 
and  of  human  thought,  since  the  coming  of  Jesus  of  IS^aza- 


THE    CHRISTIAN    SYSTEM    IN    HISTORY.  21 

retli.  And  here  is  another  series  of  facts.  History  is  the 
grand  test  of  truth  ;  it  does  not  lie,  for  it  is  the  ever  unfold 
ing  providence  of  God.  It  is  more  authoritative  than  mere 
speculation,  for  it  gives  us  the  highest  reality.  And  in  his- 
tory the  Christian  system  has  existed  as  a  real  and  permanent 
power ;  it  has  been  the  centre  of  man's  noblest  thoughts  and 
strongest  feelings,  in  his  most  cultivated  state,  for  eighteen 
hundred  years ;  it  has  controlled  the  destinies  and  led  the 
marcli  of  the  nations  ;  from  its  bitter  contests  it  has  ever 
emerged  with  added  lustre,  as  though  endowed  with  immortal 
energy.  It  is  superior  to  defeat.  Its  power  is  now  more 
intense  and  diffused  than  ever  before.  And  thus  is  Chris- 
tianity not  oidy  an  historic  revelation,  and  an  internal  experi- 
ence, but  also  an  organic,  diffusive,  plastic  and  triumphant 
force  in  human  history ;  and  in  this  history,  as  in  tlie  revela- 
tion, and  as  in  the  experience,  the  centre  around  which  all 
revolves  is  the  person  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Nor  yet  is  this  all.  This  revelation  has  another  aspect, 
which  has  already  been  hinted  at,  but  which  requires  a  fuller 
statement.  If  man  were  entirely  satisfied  with  the  course  of 
nature — with  being  born,  living,  and  dying ;  if  he  had  no 
sense  of  sin,  if  he  had  never  sinned ;  he  would  not  be  ever 
asking  those  sublime  questions,  to  which  nature  is  deaf  and 
reason  is  dumb.  But  he  knows  something  of  God,  of  law, 
of  death  and  of  eteniity,  and  he  would  fain  know  more ;  for 
here  are  inquiries  in  comparison  with  which  all  the  secrets  of 
nature  are  not  only  insignificant  but  patent  to  our  gaze. 
Now -it  is  the  grand  claim  of  the  Christian  revelation  that  it 
answers  these  vital  questions,  that  it  solves  all  the  great  raoi'al 
problems  of  human  destiny.  For  each  enigma,  so  dark  to 
reason,  it  has  a  definite  and  an  authoritative  response  ;  for  all 
the  great  moral  problems  of  our  destiny  it  offers  a  solution  ; 
and  the  solutions  are  given  in  the  person  and  work  of  Christ ; 
they  all  meet  in  the  same  radiant  centre,  in  wdiom  the  revela- 
tion converges,  in  whom  the  believer  finds  his  blessedness, 
and  to  whom  all  subsequent  history  has  brought  its  loyal 
tribute. 


22  FAITH    AND    PHILOSOPHY. 

This,  then,  is  the  primary  aspect  in  which  the  Christian 
faith  is  to  be  viewed  :  as  an  historical  reality,  conlirined  by 
experience,  influencing  history,  and  professing  to  solve  the 
greatest  questions  of  our  destiny,  and  all  concentering  in  Jesus 
Christ,  a  personal  object  of  faith  and  love,  the  very  raanifesta- 
ti(m  of  God  here  upon  the  earth. 

This  being  so,  what  is  the  attitude  which  philosophy  from 
its  very  nature,  if  we  have  correctly  described  it,  must  take 
towards  the  Christian  faith  ?  Philosoj^hy  can  annul  no  fact ; 
it  must  bow  to  all  realities  properly  attested.  It  may  strive 
to  undermine  the  basis  of  faith  by  historical  criticism ;  to 
prove  that  the  experience  of  believers  is  contrary  to  right 
reason ;  to  show  that  history  may  be  otherwise  interpreted 
than  as  centering  in  Christ :  and  that  there  are  other  and 
better  solutions  of  the  problems  of  our  destiny  than  those 
■which  Christianity  offers  :  it  may  strive  to  expel  Christ  from 
the  human  heart  and  from  liuman  history.  Should  it  succeed 
in  throwing  doubt  upon  the  evidences,  there  remains  the 
experience ;  should  it  make  experience  seem  a  delirium,  there 
remains  the  history ;  should  it  cast  suspicion  on  the  history, 
there  still  remains  the  broad  ground  that  to  all  the  great 
j)robleras  of  our  destiny,  philosophy  cannot  furnish  a  better 
decision  than  that  which  faith  bears  on  her  lips,  one  more 
consonant  with  man's  best  hopes,  more  elevating  to  his  whole 
nature,  more  rational  in  itself.  So  that  until  philosophy  can 
overthrow  the  pillars  of  our  revelation,  and  prove  our  inmost 
life  to  be  all  a  delusion  ;  until  it  can  find  some  other  centre 
of  convergence  and  divergence  for  the  whole  history  of  our 
race  tlian  the  city  of  Jerusalem,  and  the  middle  cross  on 
Calvary ;  until  it  can  resolve  the  questions  of  our  fate  with  a 
liigher  argument  than  Christianity  presents :  it  is  obliged  to 
leave  to  faith  all  the  vantage  ground,  all  the  supremacy,  which 
an  historic  and  experienced  reality  may  confer. 

And  here,  under  God,  is  the  hiding  place  of  the  strength 
of  faith.  Its  is  the  majesty  of  a  revealed  economy;  the  pro- 
foundest  experience  of  the  human  heart  is  with  it ;  the  might 
of  history  testifies  unto  it;  it,  and  it  alone,  gives  the  key 


REASON    AND    EEVELATION.  23 

which  unlocks  the  mysteries  of  our  moral  being.  These  are 
the  things  which  make  it  stronger  than  any  excogitated  sj^stem, 
Tlius  it  is  intertwined,  as  no  mere  speculation  can  be,  with 
education,  with  the  family,  with  human  institutions,  with  the 
organic  structure  of  society,  witli  the  deepest  wants  of  the 
human  heart,  with  its  most  permanent  convictions.  And  thus 
is  the  Christian  revelation,  considered  as  a  grand,  historic, 
experienced  economy,  centering  in  one  \)erson,  distinct  from 
all  other  pretended  revelations;  and  here  do  we  find  our 
warrant  for  drawing  the  distinction  broad  and  clear.  As  soon 
as  a  revelation  is  resolved,  as  by  some  recent  writers,  into  in- 
tuitions, so  soon  does  faith  lose  its  strongest  means  of  defence 
against  the  assaults  of  philosophy. 

Human  reason  may  indeed  inquire  whether  the  voice 
which  speaks  be  delusive  or  divine;  it  may  test  the  truth  of 
revelation  on  historical  grounds ;  it  may  ask  whether  its  doc- 
trines be  in  harmony  with,  or  contradictory  to  moral  truth,  to 
our  essential  ideas  and  necessary  convictions  ;  it  may  inquire 
whether  the  problems  it  proposes  to  solve  be  real  or  only  imagin- 
ary ;  but  having  answered  such  preliminary  inquiries,  it  has 
no  shadow  of  a  right  to  go  to  this  revelation,  and  dictate  to  it 
what  it  shall  tell  us  of  God's  nature,  or  what  shall  be  the 
method  of  the  revelation- or  of  the  redemption,  any  more  than 
it  has  a  right  to  go  to  that  other  reality,  nature,  and  prescribe 
its  laws  and  limit  its  elements.  In  both  cases  man  is  to  study 
and  to  learn.  Viewless  as  the  life  of  nature,  Christianity,  like 
that  life,  is  a  diffusive,  penetrating,  and  shaping  agency  ;  it 
moves  majestically  according  to  its  divine  laws,  and  knows 
not  the  control  of  human  reason.  It  is  simple  as  is  light  to 
the  eye  of  tlie  child,  it  is  profound  as  is  light  to  the  eye  of 
the  sage,  it  is  blessed  as  is  light  to  all,  it  is  darkness  only  to 
those  who  see  not  the  light. 

2.  The  statements  we  have  thus  far  made  upon  the  relative 
claims  of  faith  and  philosophy  rest  on  the  assumption  that 
both  parties  admit  the  existence  of  a  personal  God,  and  the 
possibility  of  a  revelation.  The  relation  of  the  two  is  entirely 
different,  when  philosophy  would  undermine  these  cardinal 


24  FAITH    AND    PHILOSOPHY. 

points  on  which  revelation  rests.  And  here  is  where  pliilo- 
soph}^  can  be  met  only  by  j)hilosophy.  It  is  as  uiiphilosophi- 
cal  for  faith  to  be  dogmatic  here,  as  it  is  for  philosophy  to  be 
dogmatic  in  the  face  of  a  recognized  reality.  If  we  cannot 
construct  the  foundations  and  the  outworks  of  the  Christian 
system,  on  impregnable  grounds  ;  if  we  cannot  show  the 
possibility  of  miracles  and  of  a  revelation  ;  if  we  cannot 
prove,  absolutely  prove  the  existence  of  a  wise,  intelligent, 
personal  and  providential  Ruler  of  all  things,  then  we  are 
merged  in  infidelity,  or  given  over  to  an  unfounded  faith.  If 
we  cannot  "Settle  these  points  on  the  field  of  open  discussion, 
we  cannot  settle  them  at  all. 

The  way  of  meeting  sceptical  positions  on  these  questions  is 
not  by  saying  that  tliey  are  repugnant  to  faith,  but  by  show- 
ing that  they  are  opposed  to  sound  reason  ;  is  not  by  saying 
that  they  are  German  and  transcendental,  but  by  being  very 
bold  and  yet  more  wise,  and  clailhing  that  they  are  not  only 
German  but  radically  unsound ;  not  only  transcendental,  but 
essentially  unphilosophical.  And  if  one  cannot  conscien- 
tiously say  this,  he  had  better  say  nothing  at  all  about  it. 

The  wise  method  is  to  expose  the  principle  which  lies  at  the 
heart  of  all  this  modern  infidelity,  and  to  show  that  the  prin- 
ciple is  really  unphilosophical  and  incomplete.  And  that 
principle  may  perhaps  be  said  to  be,  that  we  have  given  a  ra- 
tional account  of  things  when  we  have  reduced  them  to 
abstract  ideas,  or  great  principles  ;  to  laws,  whether  physical 
or  ideal ;  that  physical  causes,  antecedents  and  consequents, 
are  the  great  end  of  philosophic  inquiries;  in  short,  that  law  and 
system  are  sufficient  to  account  for  the  energy,  the  order,  and 
the  ends  of  the  universe.  This  is  the  prime  falsehood  coiled 
in  the  heart  of  all  these  infidel  schemes  ;  this  is  the  point  to 
be  met ;  and  against  it  we  must  show  that  this  principle  does 
not  answer  the  most  important  questions  ;  that  it  gives  only 
order  and  system,  and  does  not  exj^lain  the  origin  even  of 
that ;  that  it  only  answers  the  question,  what  are  the  constit- 
uents, and  what  the  succession  of  things  ;  that  it  does  not 
answer  the  question,  Whence  are   they  ?    nor  the  question, 


EIGHT   METHOD    OF    CHRISTIAN    ARGUMEXT.  25 

How  came  they  so  to  be  ?  nor  yet  the  question,  What  is  their 
final  cause  ?  And  these  are  as  important  and  as  phih^sophical 
questions  as  are  those  which  concern  abstract  law  and  fixed 
succession. 

When,  for  example,  an  enthusiastic  naturalist,  who  knows 
something  of  nature  and  little  of  logic,  thinks  that  by  means 
of  the  fire-mist  and  an  assumed  law,  he  can  show  how  all 
things  are  developed  out  of  the  mist,  up  to  man  and  down  to 
his  system,  and  all  without  a  God, — shall  we  deny  that  there 
are  order,  and  development,  and  a  vast  unfolding  series  in 
creation  ;  or,  shall  we  not  rather  say,  conceding  the  order  and 
development  so  far  as  they  are  verified,  that  the  more  the 
order,  and  the  vaster  the  development,  the  greater  is  the  need 
of  an  intelligent  cause  and  an  omnipotent  energy  ?  When 
modern  explorers  in  history  find  reason  and  law  and  progress 
in  its  course,  if  we  deny  the  reason  and  the  progress,  how  can 
we  vindrcate  Providence  on  any  historical  grounds  :  if  we 
aQcept  them,  ho^v  may  we  not  use  them  to  show,  even  to  the 
objector,  that  history  has  a  guiding  hand  ?  And  even  when 
the  pantheist  brings  forward  his  boasted  system,  and  asserts 
that  he  hasgot  thefprimal  substance  and  the  universal  law, 
by  which  all  things  may  be  developed,  and  attempts  to  ex- 
liibit  their  relations  and  connections  and  ends  ;  whether  is  it 
wiser  to  say  that  reason  is  proud,  that  we  cannot  see  relations 
and  make  systems,  or,  granting  the  reality  of  harmony,  order 
and  law,  and  the  need  and  use  of  pointing  them  out,  still  to 
claim  that  to  infer  pantheism  is  philosophically  false  ;  that 
this  system,  with  all  its  pretensions,  accounts  fully  only  for 
the  succession  and  order  of  things ;  not  for  their  i-atiouality, 
since  conscious  reason  alone  is  truly  rational ;  nor  for  their 
energy,  since  mind  alone  is  powerful ;  nor  for  their  origin, 
since  will  alone  can  really  bring  into  being  ;  nor  for  their 
wise  ends,  since  reason,  power,  and  will  are  necessary  to  bring 
a  rational  end  out  of  a  blind  universe.  Philosopliy  must  here 
show  that  the  idea  of  a  personal  Creator,  himself  uncaused,  is 
most  rational,  and  is  the  only  basis  of  the  unity  and  energy  of 
the  universe. 


26  FAITH    AND    PHILOSOPHY. 

Thus  on  the  great  questions  preliminary  to  .a  revelation,  we 
claim  that  philosophy  has  an  exdusive  voice,  and  tliat  this  is 
a  point  necessary  to  be  insisted  on  in  dehning  the  relations  of 
faith  and  philosophy. 

And  liere  we  would  not,  for  a  moment,  be  understood  to 
imply  that  the  actual  belief  of  men  in  God's  existence  and 
government  is  dependent  upon  such  scientific  analysis  and 
proof :  it  is  no  more  dependent  on  this,  strictly  speaking,  than 
is  man's  belief  in  an  external  world  on  the  refutation  of 
idealism.  Man  was  made  for  God,  and  all  man's  powers,  in 
their  riglit  use,  tend  toward  their  great  Author.  Here  is  the 
actual  stronghold  of  such  belief  against  all  sceptical  systems. 
And  when  the  belief  is  questioned,  an  argument  for  it  may  be 
derived  from  these  tendencies  ;  yet  not  hence  alone,  perliaps 
not  most  convincingly,  in  a  philosophic  point  of  view,  us 
against  the  sceptic. 

3.  Having  thus  stated,  in  general  terms,  what  we  conceive 
to  be  the  relations  of  these  two  powers  in  respect  to  the  sub- 
stance and  to  the  foundations  of  the  Christian  system,  claim- 
ing for  faith  the  priority  in  the  one,  and  for  philosophy  in  tlie 
other ;  it  becomes  necessary  to  speak  of  their  relations  within 
the  precincts  of  the  revelation  itself. 

For  though  philosophy  must,  in  the  first  instance,  receive 
the  revelation  properly  authenticated  ;  yet,  by  virtfte  of  its 
office  in  giving  a  systematic  form  to  our  knowledge,  it  may 
still  render  essential  and  needed  service  to  faith. 

And  this  is  the  same  thing  as  saying  that  we  need  syste- 
matic theology.  For  systematic  theology  is  the  combined  re- 
sult of  philosophy  and  faith  ;  and  it  is  its  high  office  to  pre- 
sent the  two  in  their  most  intimate  conjunction  and  inherent 
liarmony.  The  whole  history  of  the  church  gives  us,  in  scien- 
tific theology,  the  best  results  of  the  conflict,  and  examples  of 
the  union  of  the  highest  faith  and  the  wisest  philosophy.  In 
short,  systematic  theology  may  be  defined,  as  the  substance  of 
the  Christian  faith  in  a  scientific  form.  And  our  whole  pre- 
vious discussion  bears  upon  this  point  as  its  culmination  and 
result. 


SYSTEMATIC    THEOLOGY    A    SCIENCE.  27 

Systematic  theology,  by  our  ablest  divines,  is  recognized  as 
a  science,  both  theoretical  and  practical.  It  is  not  a  mere 
arrano^ement  of  the  facts  and  doctrines  of  the  Bible  in  a  lucid 
order :  it  is  the  unfolding  of  them  in  a  scientific  order  ;  it  is 
not  a  series  of  unconnected  doctrines,  with  the  definitions  of 
them,  it  is  the  combining  of  doctrines  into  a  system  :  its  parts 
should  not  only  be  coordinate,  they  should  be  regularly  devel- 
oped. It  should  give  the  whole  substance  of  the  Christian 
faith,  starting  with  its  central  principle,  around  whicli  all  the 
members  are  to  be  grouped.  It  must  defend  the  faith  and  its 
separate  parts  against  objections,  and  show  that  it  is  congru- 
ous with  well-established  truths  in  etliical  and  metaphysical 
science.  And  in  proportion  to  the  philosophical  culture  of 
the  theologian,  to  the  comprehensiveness  of  his  principles, 
will  be  his  ability  to  present  the  Christian  faith  in  a  fitting 
form.  While  it  is  partly  true,  that  he  who  seeks  foi-  theology 
in  philosoj)hy  is  seeking  the  living  among  the  dead  ;  it  is 
wholly  true,  that  he  who  seeks  for  theology  without  philoso- 
phy is  seeking  tlie  end  without  the  instruments.  We  may  be 
well  assured  that  there  is  a  statue  somewhere  in  the  block  of 
marble  ;  but  the  pick-axe,  and  the  drill,  and  eyes  that  have  no 
speculation  in  them,  can  never  find  it ;  it  needs  instruments 
of  the  finest  temper,  a  hand  of  the  rarest  skill,  guided  by  a 
mind  able  to  preconceive  the  symmetry  of  the  perfect  shape. 

The  necessity  of  systematic  theology  we  put,  then,  on  the 
broad  ground  that  we  need  a  reconciliation  between  faith  and 
philosoj^hy.  Simple  faith  might  have  been  siiificient  for  the 
first  ages  of  the  church,  though  it  was  not ;  we  live  in  an  age 
of  controversy,  surrounded  by  minds  drenched  with  ol)jec- 
tions  to  orthodoxy,  among  people  who,  whatever  else  they  have 
asked,  have  always  asked  a  reason ;  to  defend  our  faith,  to 
commend  our  faith,  we  need  systematic  theology.  Let  us 
never  cease  to  pray  that  the  age  of  perfect  faith  may  come ; 
that  it  come  more  speedily,  let  us  arm  ourselves  for  the  con- 
test. As  well  might  a  general  lead  a  straggling  troop  of  even 
patriotic  men  against  marshaled  and  disciplined  battalions,  as 
we  encounter  the  closed  and  firm  phalanx  of  our  foes  without 


2S  FAITH    AND   PHILOSOPHY. 

a  compact  army  of  even  the  sacramental  host  of  God's  elect. 
Systematic  theology  is  necessary  so  far,  and  just  so  far,  as 
there  is  any  meaning  in  the  contest  between  faith  and  philo- 
sophy ;  just  so  far  as  we  have  anything  to  say,  consistently 
and  definitely,  in  defence  of  Christianity.  Its  necessity  is  in- 
deed not  vital,  as  is  that  of  faith  in  the  heart :  it  is  not  of 
universal  educational  necessity,  as  are  preaching  and  teach- 
ing :  but  it  is  necessary  so  far  as  we  need  leaders  thoroughly 
trained,  able  to  define  and  defend  the  truth,  to  show  its  har- 
monies and  relations.  It  is  not  necessary,  as  is  the  circula- 
tion of  the  blood,  but  like  the  knowledge  of  that  circulation, 
which  is  important  to  all,  and  indispensable  to  the  expert.  It 
is  necessary  so  far  as  the  mind  needs  system  and  science  at 
all,  so  far  as  a  science  of  the  highest  objects  is  yet  more 
necessary,  so  far  as  a  science  of  the  higliest  objects  for  the  most 
urgent  and  practical  ends  is  most  necessar3\  It  is  necessary 
so  far  as  it  is  a  delight  to  the  mind  to  see  the  fair  proportions 
of  its  faith  depicted  in  their  symmetry  ;  and  surely,  never  is 
the  soul  better  prepared  to  feel  the  deepest  emotions  of  rever- 
ence and  of  trust,  than  when  it  has  gazed  upon  the  giand 
outlines  and  internal  symmetry  of  the  system  of  redemption. 
lie  who  thinks  highly  feels  deeply.  From  long  meditation  on 
the  wonder  of  the  divine  revelation,  the  mind  returns  with 
added  glow  to  the  simplicity  of  faith. 

We  do  not,  then,  feel  the  force  of  the  objection  to  doctrinal 
theology  that  it  is  unfavorable  to  a  life  of  faith.  A  technical 
system  may  be,  but  that  is  because  it  is  technical.  Mere  for- 
nuilas  may  be,  but  we  should  not  hold  any  truth  as  a  mere 
fornnila.  And  least  of  all  does  this  objection  apply  to  our 
New  England  systems  ;  these  have  been  held  by  the  heart 
quite  as  much  as  by  the  head  ;  no  theology  has  ever  insisted 
with  such  unrelenting  earnestness  upon  the  necessity  of  in- 
ward experience.  Xot  written  in  catechisms,  it  has  been 
engraved  on  fleshly  tablets.  We  liave  not  only  discussed,  we 
have  also  experienced  almost  everything ;  from  conscious 
enmity  to  God,  to  the  profoundest  submission  to  his  will ; 
from  the  depths  of  a  willingness  to  be  condemned,  to  the 


SIGNIFICANT   POWER    OF    LANGUAGE.  29 

heights  of  disinterested  benevolence;  from  the  most  abstract 
decrees  of  a  Sovereign,  down,  abnost,  to  the  power  to  tlie 
contrary  ;  we  have  passed  through  the  very  extremes  of  doc- 
trine, and  known  them  to  be  real  by  our  inward  experience. 
We  have  not  so  much  transformed  spirit  into  dogma,  as  we 
liave  transmuted  dogma  into  spirit.  We  have  never,  never 
f(,irgotten,  that  the  begetting  in  man  of  a  new  life  was  the 
paramount  end  of  all  theology  as  of  all  preaching. 

Nor  are  we  sure  that  we  understand  the  force  of  the  objec- 
tion to  doctrinal  theology,  derived  from  the  allegation  that 
language  is  inadequate  to  embody  spiritual  truth  ;  for  thougli 
this  be  annihilating,  yet  it  seems  to  us  that  it  cannot  be  proved 
true,  unless  we  utterly  divorce  language  from  all  thonglit  and 
feeling.  It  is  of  the  very  office  of  language  to  express  wliat 
is  consciously  working  in  the  soul  \  language  is  the  express 
image  of  spirit.  As  soon  as  the  mind  is  raised  above  the 
obscure  state  of  spontaneous  feeling,  or  the  rude  percep- 
tions of  sense,  it  begins  to  express  its  feelings  and  indicate  its 
perceptions  in  audible  language.  In  its  whole  training, 
words,  thought  or  uttered,  are  the  great  instrument,  as  well  as 
the  result  of  its  progress.  And  so  it  comes  to  pass,  that 
thougli  language  be  not  life,  yet  thei-e  is  not  a  deep  or  deli- 
cate emotion,  not  a  subtle  distinction  or  large  concatenation 
of  human  thought,  not  an  abstract  principle  or  a  simple  idea, 
which  language  by  simple  words,  by  imagery,  by  definition, 
by  description,  or  by  system,  is  not  adequate  to  convey.  And 
though  single  words,  when  taken  singly,  may  have  many  a 
sense,  yet  the  single  words  only  give  us  the  separate  parts  of 
speech  ;  but  talvC  language  as  a  whole,  put  the  word  in  a  sen- 
tence, qualify  it  by  adjuncts,  limit  it  by  its  relations,  define 
it  by  logic,  fix  it  in  a  system,  and  the  single  word  may  have 
such  an  immovable  significance,  that  no  other  term  can  be 
exchanged  for  that  simple  sound.  It  may  have  had  its  origin 
in  the  regions  of  sense  ;  but  by  the  action  of  the  soul  upon  it, 
it  has  been  transfigured  ;  it  has  passed  through  all  inferior 
stages,  and  at  length  has  been  claimed  by  faith  or  reason  for 
its  exclusive  use;  so  that  only  a  philologist  knows  its  earthly 


■i 


30  FAITH    AND   PHILOSOPHY. 

origin,  and  to  all  others  it  is  the  apt  and  direct  symbol  of  the 
highest  ideas  of  reason,  or  the  loftiest  objects  of  faith. 

And  for  ihe  objection  itself,  we  might  be  tlie  more  anxious, 
did  we  not  find  in  the  exquisite  grace  of  the  language  of  the 
accomplished  thinker  who  has  propounded  it,  that  his  own 
theory  is  practically  refuted  by  his  own  eminent  example. 
None  more  skilful  than  he  to  express  the  subtlest  moods  of 
mind,  the  most  delicate  analogies  of  thought ;  no  one  who 
better  exemplifies  the  fact,  that  the  snblimest  objects  of 
Christian  faith,  and  the  tenderest  play  of  Christian  feeling 
may  be  so  fully  expressed  in  human  language,  that  the  only 
hearts  unmoved  are  those  themselves  devoid  of  feeling  and 
of  faith. 

In  proceeding  now  to  state,  as  concisely  as  we  can,  the 
mode  in  which  faith  and  philosophy  are'  to  be  harmonized  in 
Christiau  theology,  so  that  this  shall  be  truly  their  nuptial 
state,  we  say,  first  of  all,  that  that  only  can  be  a  true  system, 
which  contains  the  very  substance  of  the  Christian  faith  ; 
\yhich  gives  us  the  very  heart  of  the  revelation  in  a  system- 
atic form.  Hence  the  absolute  necessity  of  Biblical  study,  as 
the  prime  condition ;  hence,  too,  he  only  who  knows  the  in- 
ward power  and  reality  of  faith  can  be  a  true  theologian. 
This  results  from  the  very  fact  that  the  Christian  economy  is 
both  an  historical  and  an  experienced  reality.  "  He  is  the 
best  divine  who  best  divines"  the  spirit  of  the  Scriptures; 
and  he  alone  has  the  power  of  divination  whose  heart  is  re- 
sponsive to  the  oracles.  In  a  higher  sense  than  can  be 
asserted  of  anything  else,  it  holds  true  of  ths  Christian  faith, 
that  "  it  can  be  really  known  only  as  it  is  truly  loved."  The 
illumination  of  the  spirit  is  as  necessary  as  is  the  light  of 
reason.  Both  the  cherubic  and  seraphic  virtues,  in  the  old 
intei-pretation  of  them — the  spirits  of  wisdom  and  the  spirits 
of  love,  must  preside  over  the  woi"k. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  only  the  philosophic  intellect  can 
grasp  the  prime  principles,  can  see  the  relations  of  the  parts, 
can  guard  against  inconsistencies,  can  show  the  harmony  of 
the  system  with  the  powers  of  the  mind,  with  ethical  truth, 


WHAT  IS  THE  CENTRAL  PRINCIPLE  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  SYSTEM?     31 

and  with  our  necessary  and  essential  ideas.  It  alone  can 
grapple  with  the  real  problems,  and  show  how  the  Christian 
faith  solves  them.  Without  it,  the  interpretation  of  Scripture 
^vould  be  careless  wlien  not  obscure.  It  alone  can  reo-ulate 
and  correct  the  definitions  of  doctrine ;  it  alone  can  impart 
shape  and  comprehensiveness  to  the  system. 

Til  us  we  have  the  substance  of  the  system,  that  is,  tlie 
revelation ;  and  the  power  whicli  is  to  shape  this  substance, 
and  that  is  the  philosophic  mind.  But  now  come  up  the 
most  important  and  decisive  questions:  whence  are  we  to 
get  the  principle,  and  what  is  the  principle,  which  is  to  be 
the  central  influence,  and  the  controlling  energy  of  the  whole 
system?  And  here  is  where  the  inquiry  really  hinges  about 
the  relative  supremacy  of  faith  and  philosophy.  Is  philo- 
sophy to  bring  this  principle  with  it  from  ethics,  from  mental 
philosophy,  or  from  natural  religion  ;  or  is  it  to  take  it  from 
the  revelation  itself  ?  And  here  perhaps  is  also  the  point  on 
which  turns  the  controversy  between  those  who  seem  to  con- 
tend on  the  one  hand  all  for  system,  and  on  the  other  all  for 
faith.  If  a  system  of  Christian  theology  be  a  true  expression 
of  the  Christian  faith,  there  can  be  no  incongruity  between 
the  system  and  the  faith  ;  we  shall  not  be  forced  either  to 
change  spirit  into  dogma  or  dogma  into  spirit ;  for  in  the 
doctrine  we  shall  have  the  expression  of  the  spirit :  we  shall 
be  lifted  above  the  misery  of  saying  that  we  must  be  all  dc^c- 
trine  or  all  life,  all  formula  or  all  faith  :  and  while  we  insist 
that  faith  is  the  essential  thing,  we  may  also  be  able  to  see 
that  a  true  theological  system  is  one  of  the  noblest  boons 
which  faith  can  have,  as  well  as  a  want  of  the  Christian 
intellect. 

All  theological  systems,  now,  which  have  any  distinctive 
influence  or  character  are  based  upon  some  ultimate  prin- 
ciples, by  which  the  arrangement  and  even  the  definitions  of 
the  doctrines  are  controlled.  Consciously  or  unconsciously, 
they  are  under  the  power  of  some  dominant  idea,  which 
determines  the  shape  of  the  separate  parts. 

Thus,, the  compact  and  consistent  system,  comprised  in  the 


33  FAITH    AKD    PHILOSOPHY. 

Westminster  Assembl3''s  Catechism,  rests,  indeed,  uj^on  the 
basis  of  the  divine  sovereignty,  bnt  this  sovereignty  is  further 
modified  by  the  idea  of  a  covenant  relation  ;  and  this  it  is 
which  may,  perhaps,  be  said  to  give  shape  to  the  exposition 
of  the  leading  doctrines  in  die  consistent  Presbyterian 
church,  so  far  as  their  views  are  different  from  the  general 
orthodoxy. 

Our  New  England  theology  has  its  basis  in  the  same  gene- 
ral idea  of  the  divine  sovereignty,  drawn  out  into  a  clear 
and  articulate  system  of  decrees,  giving  us  the  very  anatomy 
of  religion  in  its  most  abstract  form.  And  such  anatomy  is 
necessary  ;  if  we  believe  in  a  God  and  are  consistent  thinkers, 
we  cannot  avoid  believing  in  a  sure  and  divine  system  of 
things  :  thus  alone  can  we  keep  alive  the  idea  of  the  divine 
agency  and  government,  without  which  all  theology  would  be 
nnsnpported.  Bnt  besides  the  decrees,  we  have  had  two 
other  modifying  influences  in  our  systems,  which  have  given 
them  their  most  distinctive  character,  and  which  have  botii 
come  to  us  through  the  discussions  of  Jonathan  Edwards, 
though  they  might  easily  be  showii  to  be  no  arbitrary  develop- 
ment of  the  Calvin istic  system.  What  is  the  Nature  of  True 
Virtue,  and  what  is  the  real  Freedom  of  the  Human  Will  in 
connection  with  the  divine  sovereignty  :  are  the  two  questions 
which  have  chiefly  determined  the  character  of  our  theolo- 
gical systems  and  parties.  Our  views  on  these  points  have 
given  character  to  our  theology  and  our  preaching  on  many 
of  the  most  important  articles  of  the  Christian  faith.  It  is 
here  that  we  have  had  a  distinctive  character,  an  original 
theological  cast ;  it  is  here  we  have  made  "  advances  in  theo- 
logy." Our  systems  have  indeed  contained  all  the  doctrines, 
from  the  Being  of  God  to  the  life  everlasting  ;  but  our  pres- 
sure and  force  have  been  on  these  radical  inquiries.  We 
have  met  and  not  shrunk  from  the  absorbing  investigations 
which  are  forced  upon  the  mind  when  it  asks  about  the  har- 
mony of  the  doctrines  of  Christianity  with  ethical  truth,  and 
with  indubitable  facts  of  mental  science. 

But  now  we  have  fallen  upon  other  times;  and  other  in- 


CHRIST    THE    CEKTRAL    PRINCIPLE    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  33 

qniries  are  brought  home  to  us.  We  are  compelled  to  meet 
questions,  to  which  our  theories  about  sovereignty,  virtue, 
and  free-agency  can  give  no  definite  response.  Men  are  ask- 
ing, what  is  Christianity  as  distinct  from  an  ethical  system  ? 
Who  and  what  is  Christ,  that  we  should  love  and  believe  in 
Him?  AVhat  is  his  nature?  what  his  relation  to  God  and  to 
us  ?  What  is  his  place  in  the  Christian  system  ?  The  ques- 
tions of  our  times,  in  sliort,  do  not  bear  upon  the  point, 
whether  the  doctrines  of  the  Christian  system  are  in  harmony 
with  the  truths  of  ethics  and  of  mental  philosophy;  but 
rather  upon  the  point,  what  is  the  real  nature  of  Christianity, 
wliat  are  its  essential  characteristics?  And  no  theory  of 
ethics  or  of  freedom  can  answer  these  questions. 

To  meet  the  wants  of  our  times,  then,  we  most  endeavor  to 
get  at  that  principle  which  gives  its  definite  and  distinct 
character  to  the  Cln-istian  economy. 

And  it  is  here  we  claim,  as  a  matter  of  philosophical  justice 
also,  that  philosophy  is  not  to  bring  this  principle  with  it,  but 
is  rather  to  seek  it  in  the  Christian  system  itself.  This  is  the 
dictate  of  the  Baconian,  of  the  Aristotelian  induction.  This 
is  necessary  in  all  science.  To  find  the  principles  of  optics, 
we  study  light.  To  find  the  laws  of  the  mind,  we  study  mind. 
To  know  Christianity,  we  must  study  Christianity.  To  get  at 
a  living  Christian  theology,  we  must  have  the  central  principle 
of  Christianity  itself. 

We  state  our  position  again.  The  principle  which  is  to 
give  shape  to  a  theological  system  ought,  on  the  strictest 
philosophical  grounds,  to  be  taken  from  the  Christian  economy 
itself ;  so  that  what  forms  the  substance  and  vitality  of  Chris- 
tianity shall  be  the  centre  of  our  theology  also ;  this  principle 
is  not  to  be  sought  in  ethics,  or  in  nature,  or  in  the  will  of 
man,  but  only  in  the  revealed  will  of  God. 

And  loliere  we  are  to  seek  fur  this  principle,  who  can 
doubt?  The  central  idea  of  Christianity,  as  a  distinct  sys- 
tem, can  only  be  found  in  Ilim  of  whom  prophets  did  testify, 
evangelists  write,  and  apostles  preach ;  whose  life  was  the 
crowning  glory  of  humanity, as  his  death  was  its  redemption; 
3 


34  FAITH    AND    PHILOSOPHY. 

and  from  whose  death  and  from  whose  life  influences  and 
blessings  have  streamed  forth,  constant  and  inestimable  ;  in 
Ilim,  whose  nature,  moi-e  \vonderful  than  any  other,  unites 
the  extremes  of  humanity  and  divinity  ;  wliose  work,  more 
glorious  and  needed  than  any  other,  reconciles  heaven  to 
earth  and  earth  to  heaven  ;  and  whose  dominicm  is  as  intimate 
in  its  efficiency  as  it  is  eminent  in  its  claims  and  beneficent  in 
its  results.  He  is  the  centre  of  God's  revelation  and  of  man's 
redemption  ;  of  Christian  doctrine  and  of  Christian  history, 
of  conflicting  sects  and  of  each  believer's  faith,  yea,  of  the 
very  history  of  this  our  earth,  Jesus  Christ  is  the  full,  the 
radiant,  the  only  centre — fitted  to  be  such  because  He  is  the 
God-man  and  the  Redeemer :  Christ — Christ,  He  is  the 
centre  of  the  Christian  system,  and  the  doctrine  respecting 
Christ  is  the  heart  of  Christian  theology. 

Foi%  if  theology  be  the  science  which  unfolds  to  us  the 
relations  of  God  and  man ;  if  the  Christian  revelation  con- 
tains the  full  and  authoritative  account  of  these  relations  ; 
and  if  in  the  Christian  revelation  the  wealth  of  the  divine 
manifestation  and  the  wants  and  hopes  of  man  are  all  con- 
vergent upon  Jesus  Christ;  and  if  it  be  philosophically  just 
to  seek  the  central  principle  of  Christian  theology  in  that 
which  forms  the  heart  and  life  of  the  revelation — where  else 
can  we  find  this  animating  idea  excepting  in  the  Person  of 
Jesus  Christ?  And  that  which  constitutes  the  prime  and 
peculiar  characteristic  of  that  Person,  that  it  is  the  union  of 
humanity  and  divinity,  will  most  naturally  be  taken  as  the 
prime  characteristic  of  the  system  wdiich  centres  in  Him. 

And  with  that  glorious  Person  all  the  other  truths  of  our 
faith  are  inherently  connected.  The  distinct  personality  of 
Christ  is  the  starting  point,  from  which  to  infer  the  reality  of 
the  distinctions  in  the  Godhead;  atonement  and  justification 
centre  in  Him  ;  our  very  spiritual  life  is  hid  with  Christ  in 
God  ;  if  we  believe  in  him  we  are  born  of  God ;  we  are  to  be 
changed  into  the  image  of  Christ;  the  sacraments  of  the 
church  testify  of  Him  until  He  come.  And  a  theology  Avhich 
finds  its  centre  in  such  a  Being,  cannot  be  a  barren,  abstract 


CHRIST   IN    CHRISTIAN    EXPERIENCE.  35 

system;  but  it  gives  hs  a  direct  and  personal  object  for  our 
faith  and  love.  Thus,  and  thus  only,  does  Christian  theology 
express  the  Christian  faith  in  its  perfect  form. 

This  position — ^that  in  Jesus  Christ  is  to  be  found  the  real 
centre  of  the  Christian  economy,  and  that  here  its  distinction 
from  any  and  all  other  forms  of  religion  is  chiefly  to  be  seen, 
lies  at  the  basis  of  all  tlieoh^gical  svstems  which  acknowledo-e 
a  real  revelation  and  manifestation  of  God  in  the  person  and 
work  of  his  only  Son.  It  is  at  the  very  head  of  the  whole 
theology  of  the  Reformation  ;  from  reliance  upon  an  outward 
church,  there  was  a  i-eturn  to  faith  in  Christ,  as  the  only 
ground  of  justification.  To  have  Christ,  to  have  the  whole  of 
Christ,  to  have  a  whole  Christ,  is  the  soul  of  our  Puritan  the- 
ology; the  rest  is  foundation,  defence,  or  scaffolding. 

This  principle  is  also  in  entire  conformity  w^ith  the  dic- 
tates of  Christian  experience  ;  it  is  demanded  by  that  experi- 
ence. Whatever  the  theology  may  have  been,  whatever  the 
conflicts  of  sects,  the  name  of  Jesus  has  touched  the  tenderest 
and  deepest  cords  of  man's  heart.  You  may  cut  a  man  loose 
from  almost  all  the  distinguishing  doctrines  of  our  faith,  and 
he  will  still  cling  to  the  very  name  of  Christ,  as  with  a  de- 
spairing energy.  So  vital  is  Christ  in  Christian  experience, 
tliat  many  are  withheld  from  speculating  upon  his  nature  by 
the  unspeakable  depth  and  tenderness  of  their  love  for  Him. 

Thus  it  is  wherever  Christ  is  truly  known  and  loved.  And 
it  is  a  cause  of  devout  congratulation,  and  an  occasion  for  the 
most  auspicious  hopes,  that  in  that  land  where  infidelity  has 
reached  its  most  daring  height,  both  in  criticism  and  in  spec- 
ulation, there  is  also,  in  opposition  to  this  infidelity,  the  strong- 
est and  most  intelligent  attempt  to  bring  out  this  distinctive 
characteristic  of  the  Christian  system,  in  its  philosophical  and 
theological  bearings.  Tlie  later  German  Evangelical  theology, 
in  its  return  from  a  cold  rationalism  and  its  opposition  to  a 
daring  and  logical  pantheism,  is  especially  distinguished  by 
the  fact,  that  it  is  feeling  more  and  more  deeply  the  impor- 
tance and  reality  of  the  doctrine  respecting  Christ,  as  express- 
ing the  prime  pi'inciple  of  the  Christian  faith.     One  of  the 


36  FAITH    AND   PHILOSOPHY. 

loveliest  and  most  sagacious  of  all  these  evangelical  men,  Dr. 
Ullniann,  in  an  admirable  article  on  the  Keal  Nature  of 
Christianity,  thns  writes:  "Christiaiiity  first  appears  in  its 
distinctive  nature  and  in  its  full  objective  character,  when  all 
tliat  is  embraced  in  it  is  referred  back  to  the  personality  of 
its  founder,  considered  as  uniting  humanity  with  divinity, 
*  *  *  Thus  viewed,  Christianity  is  in  an  eminent  sense 
something  organic  ;  in  its  very  origin  it  is  a  complete,  spirit- 
nal,  organic  whole ;  from  a  personal  centre  it  unfolds  all  its 
powers  and  gifts,  imparting  them  to  humanity  and  uniting 
men  under  Christ  in  a  divine  kingdom.  From  this  central 
point,  and  only  from  this,  everything  else  receives  its  full 
significancy ;  doctrine,  as  the  expression  of  a  real  life,  attains 
its  full  power ;  *  *  *  atonement  and  redemption  receive 
their  objective  basis  and  confirmation." 

These  are  not  the  words  of  a  solitary  thinker  in  that  land 
of  scholars  and  thoughtful  men.  They  express  the  views 
common  to  the  best  German  divines,  the  most  philosophical 
and  the  most  Christian.  Pressed  on  all  sides  by  the  foes  of 
our  faith,  they  have  taken  refuge  in  its  very  citadel.  They 
have  been  forced  to  bi'ing  out  the  distinguishing  characteris- 
tic of  Christianity  in  the  boldest  relief.  They  have  made  the 
doctrine  respecting  Christ  to  assume  its  philosophical  and  the- 
ological importance.  They  have  found  in  it  the  middle  ground 
between  dogmatism  and  mysticism,  as  well  as  a  sure  counter- 
action to  all  ritualism.  Here  is  their  bulwark  against  pan- 
theistic and  deistic  abstractions.  By  means  of  it  they  are 
able  to  meet  the  man  who  makes  Christianity  a  mere  republi- 
cation of  natural  religion,  or  who  resolves  it  all  into  an  ethical 
system.  And  though  in  some  of  their  theologians  this  vie\v 
may  be  connected  with  unsound  or  vague  speculation  ;  though 
others  may  use  it  chiefly  to  favor  some  mystical  views  about 
the  efiica(;y  and  nature  of  the  sacraments  ;  yet  it  certainly  is 
equally  consistent  with  the  highest  orthodoxy,  with  any  ortho- 
doxy which  does  not  rest  in  bare  formulas. 

And  in  this  connection,  and  in  this  reverend  presence,  1 
may  not  refrain  from  offering  my  humble  tribute  to  the  mem- 


FREDEKIC    SCHLEIERMACHER.  37 

orj  of  tliat  man,  much  inisanderstood,  who  led  the  German 
Christianity,  in  its  returning  course,  to  our  Lord — to  Frederic 
Schleiermacher,  a  noble  and  a  venerable  name  !  His  it  was 
to  infuse  into  a  critical  and  cold  rationalism  the  fervent  and 
almost  m^'stic  love  to  Christ  which  has  ever  burned  in  tlie 
hearts  of  the  Moravian  brotherhood ;  his  it  was  to  make 
Christ  and  his  redemption  the  centre  of  one  of  the  most  skil- 
fully developed  systems  of  theology  which  the  Christian 
church  has  known  ;  his  it  was  to  draw  broad  the  line  between 
philosophy  and  Christian  theology;  his  it  was  to  impart  such 
a  true,  profound  and  continuous  influence  to  many  critical, 
speculaKve,  and  believing  minds,  that  ever  since  that  impulse, 
and  in  consequence  of  it,  they  have  been  coming  nearer  and 
nearer  to  the  full  substance  of  orthodox  Christianity.  If  he 
is  sometimes  called  pantheistic,  it  is  only  because  he  made 
the  feeling  of  dependence  to  be  the  germ  of  all  religion.  To 
him  must  indeed  be  ascribed  the  modern  revival  of  the  vao;ue 
heresy  of  the  Sabellians  ;  he  is  not  free  from  the  discredit  of 
undervaluing  many  important  historic  facts  of  our  Lord's  life  ; 
with  his  views  of  the  atonement  we  disclaim  all  sympathy  ; 
many  were  his  errors,  but  much  was  his  love  to  our  blessed 
Lord.  By  making  Christ  and  his  redemption  the  centre  of 
Christian  theology,  we  are  fully  persuaded  that  he  rendered 
an  invaluable  service  to  the  Christian  science  of  his  native 
land,  in  the  time  of  its  greatest  need.^ 

Permit  me  to  say  that  on  this  point  I  am  the  more  ready 
to  bear  my  unambitious  yet  grateful  testimony  to  the  merits 
of  Schleiermacher  and  of  the  theological  science  of  that  land 
of  intellect,  because  in  the  present  state  of  our  popular 
criticism  upon  German  theology  and  philosophy,  I  believe  it 
to  be  an  act  of  simple  justice,  due  to  them  and  to  the  truth. 
In  the  name  of  the  republic  of  letters,  in  the  name  of  all 
generous  scholarship,  in  the  very  name  of  Christian  charity,  I 
dare  not  refrain  from  testifying,  that  the  indiscriminate  cen- 

'  Those  characteristics  of  Schleiermacher's  system  which  have  given  to  it 
its  really  beneficent  iutluence.  are  only  obscurely  brought  out  in  Mr.  Mo- 
reU's  unsound  Philosophy  of  Religion. 


38  FAITH    AND    PHILOSOPHY. 

sure  of  all  that  is  German,  or  that  may  so  be  called,  is  a  sign 
rather  of  the  power  of  prejudice  than  of  a  rational  love  for 
all  truth.  A  criticism  which  describes  a  circumference  of 
which  on^'s  ignorance  is  the  generating  radius  can  only 
stretcli  far  beyond  the  confines  of  justice  and  of  wisdom.  A 
criticism  which  begins  by  saying  that  a  system  is  absolutely 
unintelligible;  which,  secondly,  asserts  that  this  unintelligible 
system  teaches  the  most  frightful  dogmas,  definitely  drawn 
out ;  and  which  concludes  by  holding  it  responsible  for  all  the 
consequences  that  a  perverse  ingenuity  can  deduce  from 
these  definite  dogmas  of  the  unintelligible  system;  is  indeed 
a  source  of  unintelligent  and  anxious  wonder  to  the  ignorant, 
but  it  is  a  jDrofounder  wonder  to  every  thoughtful  mind.  A 
criticism  which  includes  the  Christian  Neander  and  the  pan- 
theistic Strauss  in  one  and  the  same  condemnation  is  truly 
dej)lorable.  Let  us  at  least  learn  to  adopt  the  humane  rules 
of  civilized  warfare,  and  not,  like  the  brutal  soldiery  of  a 
ruder  age,  involve  friends  and  foes  in  one  indiscriminate 
massacre.  Germany  cannot  give  us  faith  ;  and  he  who  goes 
there  to  have  his  doubts  resolved,  goes  into  the  very  thick  of 
the  conflict  in  a  fruitless  search  for  its  results ;  but  even 
Germany  may  teach  us  what  is  the  real  "state  of  the  contro- 
versy "  in  our  age ;  what  are  the  principles  now  at  work 
more  unconsciously  among  ourselves.  And  can  we,  in  our 
inglorious  intellectual  ease,  find  it  in  our  hearts  only  to  con- 
demn the  men  who  have  overcome  trials  and  doubts  to  which 
our  simple  or  iron  faith  has  never  been  exposed  ;  M'ho  have  stood 
in  the  very  front  rank  of  the  fiercest  battle  that  Christianity 
has  ever  fought,  and  there  contended  hand  to  hand  with  its 
most  inveterate  and  wary  foes  ;  and  who  are  leading  on  our 
faith — as  we  trust  in  Christ  so  will  we  believe  it !  to  the  sub- 
limest  triumph  it  has  ever  celebrated? 

When,  Oh !  when,  will  scholars  and  Christian  men  learn 
that  orthodoxy  can  afford  to  be  just,  to  be  generous;  and  that 
in  this  age  it  cannot  afford  to  be  otherwise ;  since  it  thus  loses 
its  hold  over  the  minds  w4iich  are  open  to  truth  and  foes 
chiefly  to  bigotry.     When  shall  we  learn  that  it  is  quality  and 


ONE    STRONG    TENDENCY    OF    AMERICAN    THOUGHT.  39 

not  quantity  which  gives  its  value  to  all  criticism  ;  that  to 
stigmatize  whole  classes  by  opprobrious  epithets,  by  names 
"  of  uncertain  meaning  yet  of  certain  disparagement,"  is  the 
impulse  of  an  unlettered  zeal,  which  inflames  the  worst 
passions  of  our  foes  and  arouses  only  the  spurious  ardor  of  our 
friends.  When  shall  we  learn  the  high  lesson,  that  in  our 
present  conflicts,  it  is  not  nations,  or  men,  or  even  parties  that 
are  to  be  conquered,  but  only  error  and  sin  ;  and  that  the 
victory  belongs  not  alone  to  us,  but  to  truth,  to  righteousness, 
and  to  God. 

We  have  said,  that  the  German  Christianity,  by  the 
urgency  of  the  pressure  of  the  unbelieving  systems  of  the 
times  ujjon  it,  has  been  driven  to  the  position,  that  all  Chris- 
tian theology  centres  in  the  doctrine  respecting  Christ,  as  to 
its  very  citadel.  This  principle,  we  have  claimed,  lies  at  the 
heart  of  all  true  Christian  theology  and  Christian  experience. 
AVe  add,  that  it  is  eminentl}^  adapted,  when  brought  out  in  its 
fulness  and  fitness  to  counteract  some  of  the  extreme  tenden- 
cies among  ourseh^es,  as  also  to  present  Christianity  in  its 
rightful  attitude  towards  an  unbelieving^  world. 

No  one  moderately  acquainted  with  our  theological  and 
pliilosophical  discussions,  can  have  failed  to  note  the  influence 
of  one  strong  tendency,  bringing  our  speculations  and  doc- 
trines to  concentrate  upon  a  single  point,  upon  man's  internal 
state.  Everything  is  judged  by  its  reference  to  man's  soul 
and  its  powers.  We  may  call  it  the  vast,  subjective  process- 
of  modern  theology  and  philosophy.  This  tendency  has  its 
I'ights  and  necessity ;  it  is  perhaps  a  mark  of  Protestantism  ; 
it  is  more  fully  seen  in  Calvinism  than  in  Lutherauism  ;  it  is 
a  very  distinct  trait  of  many  JSTew  England  movements.  And 
if  most  noticeable  in  those  who  have  carried  our  systems  to  their 
extremes,  or  who  have  become  aliens  to  the  orthodox  faith, 
we  ought  not  to  avoid  feeling  a  deep  interest  in  it,  as  a  sign 
of  the  times  ;  and  we  are  bound  to  see  how  the  general  mind 
is  working,  whether  it  be  centrifugal  or  centiipetal  in  respect 
to  ourselves.  In  this  tendency,  too,  may  be  something  of  our 
strength  ;  but  here  also  is  much  of  our  danger. 


40  FAITH    AND    nilLOSOPIIY. 

We  can  only  rapicll}'  indicate  some  of  its  signs.  Cliristian- 
ity  is  viewed  rather  as  a  system  intended  to  cultivate  certain 
states  of  feeling,  than  as  a  revelation  to  build  ns  up  in  the 
knowledge  of  God  and  of  Christ.  The  nature  of  man's  affec- 
tions is  more  fully  discussed  than  the  nature  of  Christ.  Faith 
is  defined,  not  as  once  by  its  objects,  but  by  its  internal 
traits ;  and  if  it  be  called,  trust  in  God,  the  emphasis  is  laid 
on  the  trust  rather  than  on  God.  The  efHcacy  of  prayer  is 
sometimes  restricted  to  the  believer's  heart.  The  whole  pro- 
cess of  regeneration  has  been  explained  without  reference  to 
divine  agency.  Sin  is  viewed  chiefly  as  a  matter  of  indi- 
vidual consciousness,  and  less  in  its  connections  with  the  race 
and  with  the  Divine  purposes.  The  atonement  is  regarded  as 
a  life  and  not  as  a  sacrifice ;  it  is  defined  by  its  relations  to  us 
and  not  by  its  relations  to  God  ;  and  many  who  call  it  a 
declaration  of  the  divine  justice  explain  no  further.  Justifi- 
cation is  pardon  ;  and  pardon  is  known  by  a  change  in  our 
feelings.  Nor  with  these  doctrines  does  the  process  end. 
The  Incarnation  is  a  vehicle  for  the  communication  of  a  vague 
spiritual  life ;  the  Trinity  is  resolved  into  a  mere  series  of  mani- 
festations, which  do  not  teach  us  anything  of  the  real  nature 
of  the  Godhead  ;  it  is  like  a  dramatic  spectacle,  and  when  the 
drama  has  been  played  out,  the  persons  retire,  and  leave  us 
not  a  higher  knowledge  of  God,  but  stronger  and  warmer 
feelings  ;  as  in  a  parable,  the  moral  lesson  is  the  great  end. 

Some  of  our  pliilosophical  tendencies  are  in  the  same  line. 
Mental  philosophy  is  studied,  as  if  all  philosophy  were  in 
knowing  the  powers  of  the  mind  ;  it  is  made  the  basis  of  theo- 
logy. Self-determination  is  the  great  fact  about  mind  and 
morals.  Personal  well-being  is  the  great  end,  even  when  we 
act  in  view  of  the  universal  good ;  the  sum  of  ethics  is  happi- 
ness, and  this  happiness  in  its  last  analysis  is  viewed  as  sub- 
jective and  not  as  objective.  Man  becomes  the  measure  of 
all  things ;  not  the  glory  of  God,  but  the  happiness  of  man 
is  the  chief  end.  God  is  for  man,  rather  than  man  for  God ; 
and,  as  in  the  infancy  of  science,  the  sun  again  revolves 
around  the  earth. 


PERILS    OF    AN    EXTREME    SUBJECTIVE    TENDENCY.  41 

Thus  the  grand,  ol^jecttive  force  of  truth  and  of  Christian- 
ity, and  of  Christian  doctrines,  their  reality  in  themselves  and 
as  a  revelation  of  God,  are  in  danger  of  being  merged  in  the 
inquiry  after  their  value  as  a  means  of  moving  us.  If  any- 
tlnng  will  move  ns  as  much,  it  is  as  well  as  Chi-istianity.  "  We 
for  whose  sake  all  nature  stands,"  is  somethino-  more  than 
poetry.  A  restless,  morbid  state  of  feeling  ensues,  different 
from  the  calm  composure  which  hearty  faith  in  a  revelation 
is  adapted  to  inspire.  Men  will  be  perfect  at  once ;  not 
merely  strive  to  be  so,  which  none  can  do  too  earnestly  ;  but 
believe  that  they  are  so,  which  none  can  be  too  cautious  in 
affirming.  And  the  essence  of  their  perfection  is  found  in 
an  intention  of  the  will,  of  which  they  must  be  always  con- 
scious or  else  their  perfection  is  without  evidence. 

Thus  in  various  ways  this  tendency  shows  itself.  We  have 
hinted  at  some  of  its  extreme  forms,  identified  with  no  one 
party  or  school.  It  is  an  avaricious  principle.  All  that  is 
not  directly  convertible  into  moods  of  mind,  it  will  hardly 
allow  to  be  current  coin.  The  massive  theological  s^'stems  of 
past  ages,  so  large,  and  careful,  and  intricate,  are  conceded  to 
be  imposing,  but  are  felt  to  be  cold  and  uncomfortable ;  we 
are  not  at  home  in  them.  The  Bible,  the  church,  Christ,  the 
historic  revelation,  fade  away  one  after  another;  all  that 
remains  in  the  last  result  is  an  internal  revelation  or  an  inter- 
nal inspiration  ;  religion  is  merged  in  a  vague  love  to  an 
abstract  divinity.  And  where  this  state  of  mind  has  come, 
pantheism  lietli  at  the  door. 

JS^ow,  that  this  subjective  tendency  has  its  rights,  as  well  as 
its  force,  that  without  internal  experience  all  else  is  vain,  that 
the  letter  kills  if  the  spirit  be  not  there,  no  one  can  ration- 
ally deny.  That  our  chief  dangers  lie  in  the  extremes  of 
this  tendency,  is  equally  undeniable.  That  there  must  1)e  a 
reaction  from  this  extreme  is  manifest  from  all  history,  from 
the  very  laws  of  the  mind,  from  the  very  signs  of  the  times. 

The  question  for  us  to  weigh,  then,  is  this:  how  shall  we 
both  encourage  and  restrain  this  mighty  current  ? 

Some  would  bid  us  back  to  the  rites  and  forms  and  alleged 


42  FAITH    AND    PHILOSOPHY. 

succession  of  a  visible  chureli ;  but  let  tlie  dead  bury  their 
dead  ;  let  ns  rather  arise  and  follow  our  Lord.  ^Ye  have 
cnitgrown  the  power  and  the  necessity  of  the  becygarly  ele- 
ments. As  Dr.  Arnold  said  :  "  the  sheath  of  the  leaf  is 
burst;  Avhat  were  the  wisdom  of  winter,  is  the  folly  of 
spring." 

Shall  M'e  insist  with  new  tenacity  upon  our  old  formulas  ? 
But  words  and  formulas  alone  have  but  slight  force  against 
such  an  in-wrought  and  potent  tendency.  And  they  are  no 
effectual  guards  against  heresy,  since,  as  has  been  well 
observed,  heresy  can  as  readily  enter,  and  does  as  often 
couch  itself  under  the  guise  of  old  terms  as  of  new.  Let  us 
rather  seek  to  know  the  real  sense  of  the  formulas  ;  let  us 
come  to  have  a  deeper  sense  of  the  grand  realities  of  our 
faith. 

To  come  to  these  is  our  safety,  our  defence.  To  see  and 
feel  and  know  what  Christianity  really  is  in  its  inward  and 
distinctive  character ;  to  study  those  central  truths  which  lie 
at  its  foundation  ;  here  is  our  strength.  Let  us  come  unto 
Jesus.  When  Christ  is  to  us  more  tlian  a  doctrine,  and  the 
atonement  more  than  a  plan  ;  when  the  Incarnation  assumes 
as  high  a  place  in  revealed,  as  creation  does  in  natural  theo- 
logy; when  the  Trinity  is  viewed  not  as  a  formula,  but  as  a 
vital  truth,  underlying  and  interwoven  with  the  whole  Chris- 
tian system  ;  when  from  this  foundation  the  whole  edifice 
rises  up  majestically,  grand  in  its  proportions,  sublime  in  its 
aims,  filled  with  God  in  all  its  parts ;  when  we  feel  its  in- 
herent force  streaming  out  from  its  livdng  centres;  then, 
then  are  we  saved  from  those  extreme  tendencies  which  arc 
the  most  significant  and  alarming  sign  of  our  times  ;  then, 
then  are  we  elevated  above  those  lesser  controversies  wliich 
have  narrowed  our  minds  and  divided  our  hearts.  Here  also 
we  have  a  real  inward  experience  as  well  as  an  objective 
reality;  for  the  best  and  fullest  inward  experience  is  that 
which  centres  in  Christ ;  and  the  centre  of  the  experience  is 
then  identical  with  the  centre  of  the  divine  revelation. 

Never  are  we  so  far  from  havino;  any  abstract  ethical  or 


HOW    ALL    THINGS    ARE    HARMONIZED    IN    CHRIST.  43 

metaphysical  principles  exercise  an  undue  influence;  never 
are  we  so  far  from  a  too  fond  reliance  on  self  and  never  is 
self  so  full  and  satisfied ;  never  are  we  in  a  better  position 
for  judging  all  our  controversies  with  a  righteous  judgment, 
or  nearer  to  the  highest  Christian  union  ;  never  do  the 
divine  decrees  shine  in  so  mild  a  lustre,  so  benignant  with 
grace,  so  solemn  and  severe  in  justice  ;  never  can  we  be  more 
wisely  delivered  from  the  material  attractions  of  an  outward 
rite,  or  from  the  ideal  seductions  of  a  pantheistic  system  ; 
never  is  doctrine  so  full  of  life,  and  life  so  richly  expressed 
in  doctrine ;  never  does  systematic  theology  so  perfectly 
present  the  full  substance  of  the  Christian  faith  in  a  truly 
scientific  form  ;  and  never  are  philosophy  and  faith  so  joined 
in  hymeneal  bonds,  where  they  may  "  exult  in  over-measure," 
as  when  Christ  is  set  forth  as  the  living  centre  of  all  faith 
and  of  all  theolog}",  in  whom  the  whole  body  is  fitly  joined 
together,  compacted  by  that  which  e^'ery  joint  supplieth. 
Here,  if  anywliere,  we  may  discern, 

"  Couconl  in  discord,  lines  of  differing  method. 
Meeting  in  one  full  centre  of  delight." 

Having  traced,  as  far  as  we  may,  the  course  of  the  blood 
in  the  veins  of  the  system,  and  scrutinized  the  delicate  and 
intricate  organism  by  which  it  is  diffused  through  every  part, 
we  are  better  prepared  to  go  back  to  the  grand  arterial 
structure,  to  the  great  central  heart,  where  resides  the  life- 
imparting  energy  ;  and  there,  too,  we  shall  learn  whence 
comes  the  blood  which  courses  through  the  veins.  Having 
the  necessity,  we  need  not  want  the  flexure.  Having  the 
anatomy  of  the  Christian  sj'stem,  let  us  have  also  its  physi- 
ology ;  for  physiology  is  the  science  of  life. 

We  have  thus  gone  over  the  ground  proposed,  imperfectly, 
rapidly  ;  and  yet  have  been  only  too  long  for  the  occasion. 
We  have  spoken  of  the  characteristics,  the  opposition,  the 
reconciliation,  and  the  respective  rights  of  Faith  and  Philo- 
sophy. We  have,  then,  maintained  the  positions,  that  their 
full  reconciliation  is  the    true  aim  of   systematic   theology. 


44  FAITH    AND    PHILOSOPHY. 

whose  office  it  is  to  present  the  substance  of  the  Christian 
faith  in  a  scientific  form,  and  in  harmony  with  all  other 
truth ;  that  the  central  principle  of  the  system,  as  of  the 
revelation  and  of  the  believer's  consciousness,  is  to  be  found 
in  the  Person  of  Christ ;  and  that  such  a  view  of  Christianity 
will  encourage  whatever  is  healthful,  and  restrain  what  is 
noxious  in  the  prevailing  tendencies  of  onr  times. 

And  now,  in  conclusion,  we  say,  the  Christian  system,  thus 
viewed,  gives  ns  all  that  philosophy  aims  after,  and  in  a  more 
perfect  form;  that  it  also  gives  us  inoie  than  philosophy  can 
give  ;  and  this  more  than  it  gives  is  what  man  most  needs 
and  what  reason  alone  never  could  divine.  And,  therefore, 
we  conclude  that  it  is  not  within  the  scope  of  the  human 
mind  to  conceive  a  system  more  complete,  richer  in  all 
blessings. 

It  gives  us  all  that  philosophy  aims  after,  and  in  a 
more  perfect  form.  For,  in  a  hai'monious  system  of  Chris- 
tian truth,  nature,  with  all  its  laws  and  processes,  is  not 
denied  or  annulled  ;  it  is  only  made  subservient  to  higher,  to 
moral  ends  ;  its  course  is  interrupted  for  a  nobler  purpose 
than  a  fixed  order  could  ensure  ;  and  thus  a  higher  dignity  is 
imparted  to  it  than  when  we  consider  it  as  only  a  mere  suc- 
cession of  matei'ial  changes.  And  its  veiy  order  and  har- 
mony are  best  explained  when  regarded  as  the  product  of 
infinite  wisdom  and  benevolence,  acting  with  the  wisest  and 
most  benevolent  intent.  All  ethical  truth  and  all  great 
moral  ends,  human  rights  and  human  happiness  and  a  per- 
fect social  state,  are  included  in  the  Christian  system  as  truly 
as  in  philosophy  ;  and  a  new  glory  is  cast  around  them  when 
they  are  made  integral  parts  of  a  divine  kingdom,  established 
in  justice  and  animated  by  love,  which  is  not  only  to  be  real- 
ized here  npon  the  earth,  bnt  is  to  reach  forward  even  to 
eternity.  Moral  principles  and  ends  thus  retain  all  their 
meaning  and  value  ;  but  they  are  made  more  effective  and 
permanent  when  contemplated  as  inherent  in  the  nature  and 
government  of  a  wise  and  hoi}'  God,  and  as  the  basis  and  aim 
of  an  eternal  kingdom.     We.  thus  have  not  merely  a  perfect 


CHRISTIANITY    GIVES    US    WHAT    PHILOSOPHY    CxVNNOT.  45 

social  state  here,  but  a  holy  state,  animated  with  the  very 
presence  and  power  of  God,  forevermore.  All  that  natural 
religion  can  prove  or  claim  is  retained,  all  that  an  internal 
revelation  and  inspiration  ever  boasted  itself  to  have  is 
allowed  by  the  Christian  system ;  but  the  truths  of  natural 
religion  are  fortified  by  a  higher  authority  ;  and  the  inward 
revelation  is  illumined  by  a  clearer  light,  when  it  is  seen  in 
the  brightness  of  that  express  manifestation  of  God  in  the 
person  of  his  Son,  whose  teachings  have  both  chastened  and 
elevated  all  our  views  of  God  and  of  religion. 
'C^  Thus  may  Christianity  give  us  all  that  philosophy  can  give, 
and  in  a  more  perfect  form.J  But  it  also  gives  us  more  ;  and 
this  more  that  it  gives  is  what  man  most  needs,  and,  unaided, 
never  could  attain.  God  is  infinite,  man  is  finite ;  how,  then, 
can  man  come  unto  and  know  his  Creator  and  sovereign  ? 
Man  is  sinful  and  God  is  holy  ;  how  can  a  sinful  man  be 
reconciled  to  a  holy  God  ?  how  can  a  sinful  nature  become 
regenerate  ?  Man  is  mortal,  as  well  as  sinful ;  how  can  he 
obtain  certainty,  entire  certainty,  as  to  a  future  life  and  his 
eternal  destiny  %  Here  are  the  real  and  vital  problems  of 
human  destiny ;  before  them  reason  is  abashed,  and  con- 
science can  only  warn,  and  man  can  only  fear.  The  urgency, 
the  intense  interest  of  these  questions  no  thinking  mind  can 
doubt;  the  uncertainty  and  timidity  of  human  reason,  when 
it  meets  them,  are  almost  proverbial.  If  these  questions  are 
not  answered,  if  these  problems  are  not  solved  in  Christianity 
they  are  absolutely  answered  nowhere.  And  precisely  here 
it  is  that  M-e  contend  that  the  Christian  system  has  a  perma- 
nent power,  and  a  perfect  fitness  to  man's  condition  ;  for  you 
cannot  name  a  vital  problem  of  our  moral  destiny  which  it 
does  not  profess  to  solve,  and  to  solve  in  a  way  beyond  which 
human  thought  can  conceive  of  notliing  greater,  and  the 
human  heart  can  ask  for  nothing  more  ;  in  a  way  which  is  to 
the  simplest  heart  most  simple,  and  to  the  highest  intellect 
most  profound.  The  highest  ideas  and  ends  which  reason 
can  propound  are  really  embraced,  the  deepest  wants  whi<jh 
man  can  know  are  truly  satisfied,  the  sharpest  antagonisms 


46  FAITH    AND    PHILOSOPHY. 

which  the  mind  can  propose,  are  declared  to  be  reconciled, 
in  the  ideas,  the  means,  and  the  ends  which  are  contained  in 
that  revelation  which  centres  in  the  Person  of  Jesus  Christ 
our  Lord. 

For,  tlie  highest  idea  which  man  can  frame  is  that  of  a 
miion  of  divinity  with  humanity ;  this  is  the  very  verge  of  a 
possible  conception  for  the  human  intellect ;  and  in  the  Person 
of  our  Saviour  we  liave  this  idea  realized  in  all  its  fulness,  and 
with  such  a  marvellous  adaptation  to  human  sympathies  that 
they  are  made  the  very  means  of  drawing  us  within  the  hal- 
lowed sphere  of  the  glories  of  divinity.  Through  Jesus  Christ, 
and  Ilim  alone,  does  finite  man  come  to  the  Infinite  I  am. 

The  highest  moral  problem  which  we  can  know  is  contained 
in  the  question,  how  can  a  sinful  man  be  reconciled  to  a  holy 
God?  Here  is  absolutely  the  highest  moral  antagonism  of 
the  universe.  And  in  the  sacrificial  death  of  this  same  Per- 
son, our  great  High  Priest,  this  highest  moral  question  is  pre- 
sented to  us  as  entirely  solved,  and  solved  in  such  a  way,  that 
the  sense  of  sin  is  not  lessened  but  heightened,  and  the 
majesty  of  the  law  not  impaired  but  made  more  glorious. 
While  in  the  regenerating  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit  we 
have  the  means  of  applying  the  benefits  of  this  atonement  in 
such  a  way  to  the  heart  of  the  sinner  that  his  very  love  of 
sin  will  at  last  be  wholly  eradicated. 

The  highest  kingdom  we  can  conceive  to  exist  is  one  which 
aims  at  the  holiness  of  all  who  belong  to  it,  which  has  love 
for  its  common  principle ;  which  has  for  its  head  a  being 
who  unites  all  human  with  all  divine  perfections ;  who  has 
himself  suffered  for  all  the  members  of  this  kingdom  and  in 
their  stead ;  and  who  will  reign  over  and  within  them,  not 
only  for  this  life  but  also  for  that  which  is  to  come.  In  such 
a  kingdom  all  are  bound  togetlier  by  the  strongest  ties  for 
the  highest  objects.  And  such  is  the  kingdom  of  which 
Jesus  Christ  is  the  head  and  redeemed  men  the  body. 

And  all  these  questions  are  solved,  these  ideas  realized, 
these  antagonisms  adjusted,  and  this  kingdom  is  established 
in  one  and  the  same  Person  ;  all  this  system  is  concentrated 


THE    CROWNING    GLOKY    OF   FAITH.  47 

in  that  God-man,  who  came  from  heaven  to  earth  that  he 
might  raise  us  from  earth  to  heaven,  who  adapted  himself  to 
our  infirmities  and  necessities  that  He  might  be  made  unto 
us  wisdom  and  righteousness,  sanctification  and  redemption. 

And,  therefore,  dare  we  assert  that  beyond  the  idea  of  such 
a  system,  centering  in  such  a  Being,  human  thought  is  impo- 
tent to  advance  and  the  human  heart  has  nothing  real  to 
desire ;  it  satisfies  all  within  us  which  is  not  sinful,  and  it  is 
its  crowning  glory  that  it  subdues  our  sinfulness  itself.  Such 
a  system  brings  together,  recapitulates,  all  things  in  Christ, 
both  which  are  in  heaven  and  which  are  in  earth  ;  and  by 
such  a  Person,  all  things  are  reconciled  to  G(jd,  by  him,  the 
apostle  says,  whether  they  be  things  in  earth  or  things  in 
heaven. 

Whence,  whence  came  to  our  sinful  race  the  idea  of  such 
a  Being,  of  such  a  kingdom  ?  Has  man's  reason  framed  it ; 
and  the  human  imagination,  hath  that  gendered  it?  With 
cold  eye  and  heart  I  might  gaze  on  the  face  of  nature  in  lier 
grandest  or  her  loveliest  scenes ;  with  intellectual  delight  I 
may  scan  the  principles  and  follow  out  the  deductions  of  an 
abstract  scheme  of  philosophic  speculation ;  with  sublime 
wonder  I  may  follow  the  astronomer  as  he  describes  the  laws 
and  order  of  firmaments  and  systems  radiant  in  their  solar 
light;  I  may  feel  all  my  human  sympathies  enlisted  by  any 
philanthropic  scheme  which  would  bring  justice  and  love  into 
this  world  so  full  of  oppression  and  hatred ;  but  when  I  think 
of  the  wonders  of  our  Saviour's  Person  and  of  the  glories  of  his 
redemptive  work,  of  all  his  love,  his  love  for  me  a  sinner,  his 
love  to  all  so  great  that  He  could  die  for  all,  and  of  that 
blessed  and  perpetual  kingdom  which  his  blood  has  purchased 
and  of  which  He  is  the  ever  living  Head  ;  when,  in  some 
rapt  moment,  my  heart  can  realize  this  in  all  its  fulness,  then, 
if  ever,  is  my  whole  being  filled  with  the  profoundest  emo- 
tions of  awe,  of  gratitude,  and  of  love.  Never  is  the  soul  so 
conscious  of  its  full  capacities  of  thought  and  feeling,  never 
does  it  throb  with  such  unwonted  and  divine  life,  as  when  it 
has  most  fully  grasped  the  majestic  reality  of  the  Christian 


48  FAITH    AND   PHILOSOPHY. 

faith,  as  a  wondrous  and  liarraonions  whole,  tending  to  the 
highest  imaginable  end,  and  centering  in  that  glorious  Being 
who  unites  divinity  with  humanity  and  reconciles  heaven 
with  earth. 

In  comparison  with  the  fulness,  fitness,  and  sufiiciency  of 
such  a  system,  the  most  colossal  structui-e  which  pantheism 
ever  reared  is  but  as  a  palace  of  ice,  cold  and  cheerless,  con- 
trasted with  that  heavenly  city,  whose  gates  are  pearl,  whose 
streets  are  gold,  thronged  with  a  companj^  innumerable  and 
exultant,  vocal  with  the  melodies  of  the  redeemed,  of  which 
the  Lamb  is  the  light,  and  God  the  glory. 


I^ATUEE  AI^D  WORTH 

OP  THE 

SCIENCE  OF  CHURCH  HISTORY; 


In  addressing  the  Directors  of  the  Union  Theological 
Seminary  and  this  respected  audience,  upon  an  occasion  of 
such  solemn  interest  to  myself,  and  so  closely  connected  with 
the  welfare  of  the  institution  which  they  guard  and  cherish, 
I  would,  if  possible,  foi-get  my  own  unfitness  for  the  office  to 
which  I  have  been  called,  and  accept  its  duties  in  the  name 
and  for  the  sake  of  the  Great  Head  of  the  Chui-ch.  It  is  the 
history  of  his  church  which  I  am  to  teach.  xVnd  if  the  guid- 
ance of  his  wisdom  is  needed  at  all  times  by  all  his  disciples, 
it  is  especially  needed  by  his  ministry  ;  yet  more  by  those 
called  to  train  men  for  his  ministry,  and  in  some  peculiar  re- 
spects by  one  who  is  to  narrate  the  history  of  his  kingdom  to 
its  future  p'.-eachers  in  our  age  and  country. 

The  histt)ry  of  the  church  is  not  the  straightforward  narra- 
tive of  the  fortunes  of  an  isolated  community  with  inferior 
ends  in  view,  but  it  is  an  account  of  the  rise,  the  changes  and 
the  growth  of  the  most  wonderful  economy  the  world  has 
known,  embracing  the  most  comprehensive  pui-poses  which 
human  thought  can  grasp.  It  has  maintained  itself  in  the 
liistoric  progress  of  the  race,  as  has  no  empire.  It  has  been 
aggressive,  attacked,  progressive  and  diffusive  as  has  no  other 
communit}'.  It  has  moved  through  States,  intertwined  itself 
with  institutions,  changed  politics,  shaped  national  and  indi- 

*  An  Inaug-ural  Address,   delivered  before  the  Directors  of  the  Union 
Theological  Seminary,  February  12,  1851. 
4 


T'O  SCIENCE    OF    CHURCH    HISTORY. 

vicinal  character,  affected  all  moral  and  social  interests,  and 
been  interM'oven  widi  the  whole  web  of  human  destiny.  He 
who  would  know  the  principles  which  have  really  controlled 
human  thought  and  action,  will,  if  he  be  wise,  explore  the  re- 
cords of  that  kingdom  which  has  had  the  longest  duration  and 
the  strongest  influence.  On  human  grounds  alone  it  may 
challenge  the  most  earnest  study  of  evei-y  thoughtful  mind. 
But  this  history  is  invested  with  a  solemn,  a  sublime  interest, 
when  it  is  viewed  as  the  record  of  a  divine  economy,  estab- 
lished in  an  apostate  world,  centering  in  the  incarnation  of 
the  Son  of  God,  and  ha\-ing  for  its  object  the  redemption  of 
the  race,  through  the  might  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  As  such,  it 
contains  the  most  antagonistic  elements.  For,  though  the 
origin  of  this  kingdom  be  divine,  and  though  its  consumma- 
tion will  be  the  glorious  and  untroubled  manifestation  of 
God's  grace  and  wisdom,  yet,  between  the  origin  and  the  con- 
summation there  is  a  theatre  of  strife,  where  the  strongest 
energies  of  good  and  ill,  all  the  forces  of  a  supernatural,  and 
all  the  forces  of  a  natural  kingdom  wage  perpetual  warfare. 
It  is  in  the  vanquishing  of  mighty  and  subtle  foes  that  the 
kingdom  cf  Christ  has  shown  its  superior  and  supreme  author- 
ity. Thei-e  is  progress,  but  it  is  progress  through  conflict. 
There  are  the  victories  of  faith,  there  is  also  the  partial  suc- 
cess of  unbelief,  there  is  advance  in  spiritual  freedom,  there 
is  the  exaltation  of  sj^iritual  despotism  ;  there  are  enemies 
without,  and  feuds  within  ;  there  is  the  growth,  there  is  also 
the  perversion  of  Christian  doctrine  ;  there  is  the  church 
separate  from  the  world,  and  the  church  contending  against, 
submissive  to,  and  domineering  over.  States  and  empires  ; 
and  all  this,  not  in  one  land,  or  one  century,  but  from  East  to 
West,  through  many  centuries,  in  the  most  puissant  nations 
of  the  earth.  And  if  it  is  chiefly  in  the  conflicts  of  the  race 
that  we  are  to  read  the  destiny  of  the  race,  then  through  these,  its 
mightiest  conflicts,  may  we  be  taught,  that  he  wlio  would  reach 
forth  his  hand  to  grasp  the  solemn  urn  that  holds  the  oracles 
of  human  fate  can  find  it  only  in  the  Christian  church.  And 
if  Lord  Bacon  could  say  in  view  of  the  visible  creation  : 


POSITION    OF    A    TEACHER    OF    CIIUKCII    HISTORY.  51 

"  God  forbid  that  we  give  forth  the  dream  of  our  fancy  as  the 
model  of  the  world,  l)nt  may  he  rather  vouchsafe  us  his 
grace  that  we  may  indite  a  i-evelation  and  trne  vision  of  the 
march  and  signet  of  the  Creator  impressed  upon  creation  ;  " 
much  more  ought  he,  who  explores  the  revelations  of  God  in 
his  new  and  spiritual  creation,  to  feel  the  constant  need  of 
that  divine  illnmiiiation  which  can  alone  enable  him  to  dis- 
tinguish what  is  from  God  and  what  is  from  man,  what  is 
transient,  and  what  is  worthy  of  lasting  veneration  ;  which 
can  alone  enable  liim  to  get  above  all  these  contests,  so  as  to 
read  their  meaning,  and  so  to  read  their  meaning  as  to  see  the 
march  and  signet  of  redemptive  grace  impressed  upon  the 
moral  history  of  our  earth. 

While  the  position  of  a  teacher  of  Church  History  is  thus, 
from  the  nature  of  the  case,  always  responsible  and  arduous, 
it  is  especially  so  to  one  who  is  called  to  discharge  the  func- 
tions of  this  office  in  our  age  and  in  our  land.  There  are 
advantages,  indeed,  as  well  as  disadvantages,  but  both  the 
advantages  and  the  disadvantages  increase  the  measure  of  his 
toil.  There  is  an  accumulation  of  historical  materials,  and 
this  is  an  advantage ;  but  they  are  more  than  sufficient  to 
task  the  freshest  powers  in  the  longest  life.  There  are  now 
better  digests  of  the  materials  than  were  even  imagined  possi- 
ble, half  a  century  ago,  but  the  teacher  must  verify  their  de- 
tails and  try  their  principles.  The  presumptuous  and  igno- 
rant assaults  of  a  base  philosophy  against  the  Christian  church, 
liave  well  nigh  spent  their  force  ;  no  sane  and  instructed 
]nind  would  now  dare  to  represent  it  as  injurions  to  human- 
ity, as  the  work  of  priestcraft,  as  a  complex  of  endless  and 
useless  logomachy,  and  as  sterile  of  all  rational  interest. 
These  vulgar  objections  had  their  origin  in  schools  which  im- 
agined that  matter  was  more  intelligible  than  mind,  and  in 
countries  where  the  history  of  Christianity  was  identified  with 
the  progress  of  Romish  corruptions  ;  and  they  now  live  only 
in  the  souls  that  are  the  fitting  receptacles  of  the  veriest  dregs 
of  human  thought.  They  have  been  refuted  in  part  by  the 
very  progress  of  Christianity,  as  well  as  l)y  a  better  philoso- 


52  SCIENCE    OF    OIIUECH    HISTORY. 

phy,  and  a  more  comprehensive  view  of  man's  history.  But 
these  larger  views  of  liuman  history  bring  with  them  still 
graver  duties  to  the  historian  of  the  church,  because  most  of 
them  assign  to  the  church  a  snbordinate  position  in  the  devel- 
opment of  the  race,  and  thns  impose  the  necessity  of  giving  a 
more  philosophical  character  to  the  exposition  of  that  history, 
so  that  it  shall  be  seen  to  embrace  all,  as  well  as  the  spiritual 
interests  of  humanity. 

There  are  also  disadvantages  in  the  study  of  this  branch  of 
learning,  springing  from  our  systems  of  education  and 
national  habits  of  thouglit.  As  a  people,  we  are  more  defi- 
cient in  historical  training  than  in  almost  any  other  branch  of 
scientific  research.  We  live  in  an  earnest  and  tumultuous 
present,  looking  to  a  vague  future,  and  comparatively  cut  off 
from  the  prolific  past — which  is  still  the  mother  of  us  all.  We 
forget  that  the  youngest  people  are  also  the  oldest,  and  should 
therefore  be  most  habituated  to  those  "  fearless  and  reverent 
questionings  of  the  sages  of  other  times,  which,"  as  Jeffrey 
well  says,  "is  the  permitted  necromancy  of  the  wise."  We 
love  the  abstractions  of  political  theories  and  of  theology 
better  than  we  do  the  concrete  realities  of  history.  Church 
history  has  been  studied  from  a  sort  of  general  notion  that  it 
ought  to  be  very  useful,  rather  than  from  any  lively  com'ic- 
tioii  of  its  inherent  worth.  History  is  to  us  the  driest  of 
studies  ;  and  the  history  of  the  church  is  the  driest  of  the  dry 
— a  collection  of  bare  names,  arid  facts,  and  lifeless  dates. 
It  is  learned  by  rote,  and  kept  by  mnemonic  helps.  Whole 
tracts  of  its  course  realize  to  us  the  notion  of  the  philosopher 
in  Addison,  who  used  to  maintain  the  existence  of  tenebrific 
stars,  whose  peculiar  office  it  was  to  ray  out  positive  darkness. 

Its  sources  are  buried  in  the  dust  of  alcoves,  and  when  ex- 
humed, it  is  seldom  with  the  insignia  of  a  resurrection.  Tiiey 
are  investigated  for  aid  in  present  polemics,  not  to  know  the 
past  but  to  conquer  in  an  emergency ;  as  if  one  should  run 
over  American  history  only  in  view  of  incorporating  a  bank, 
or  passing  a  tariff-bill.  While  we  all  confess  that  there  are 
sources  of  sublime  interest  in  the  study  of  the  visible  heavens, 


WHAT    IS    CHURCH    HISTORY    AS    A    SCIENCE?  53 

and  that  no  research  is  too  deep  into  the  successive  strata  of 
the  solid  earth,  we  are  slow  to  believe  that  in  the  course  of 
human  history,  we  are  to  find  the  revelation  of  the  sublimities 
of  a  spiritual  kingdom,  and  the  registry  of  the  successive 
epochs  of  that  new  creation,  in  which  divine  wisdom  and  love 
are  manifested  and  mirrored  forth,  as  they  cannot  be  in  the 
orbits  of  lifeless  stars,  or  in  the  growth  of  the  unconscious 
earth. 

While  I  attempt,  then,  as  a  subject  appropriate  to  the 
occasion,  to  set  forth  the  Nature  and  Worth  of  the  Science  of 
Church  History,  I  would  also  crave  the  indulgence  of  this 
audience  to  my  seeming  exaggerations  of  an  unfamiliar  theme, 
in  the  belief  that  its  inherent  dignity  will  commend  it  to  their 
favorable  regard. 

And  I  propose  to  speak  in  the  first  place,  of  the  nature  or 
true  idea  of  the  science  of  church  history  ;  and,  in  the  second 
place,  to  show  its  worth  as  a  part  of  theological  training, 
especially  in  our  times. 

I.  The  nature  of  the  science  of  church  history.  What  is, 
then,  church  history  as  a  science  ?  What  is  the  true  idea  of 
this  branch  of  theological  learning? 

The  different  departments  of  theological  study  are  usually 
and  most  appropriately  grouped  under  the  four  divisions  of 
exegetical,  doctrinal,  historical,  and  practical  theology.  The 
scope  of  each  branch  is  well  defined  by  the  term  applied 
to  it.  Historical  theology  embraces  all  that  pertains  to  the 
liistoric  progress  of  the  church,  under  the  historical  point  of 
view.  Doctrines  and  polity  as  well  as  external  facts  belong 
to  it,  yet  not  as  doctrines  and  not  as  polity,  but  as  the  history 
of  doctrines  and  polity,  reproducing  them  with  impartiality 
and  critical  sagacity  in  the  order  in  which  they  have  really 
existed.  The  church  historian  ought  indeed  so  to  teach,  as^ 
by  his  instructions,  to  confirm  soundness  in  faith  and  attach- 
ment to  ecclesiastical  order ;  he  ought  to  apply  to  history  at  all 
points  the  test  of  that  word  which  alone  is  inspired  and 
authoritative  ;  but  in  order  to  do  this,  his  first  duty  is  to  pre- 
sent the  facts  themselves  in  the  order  of   their  occurrence. 


54  SCIENCE    OF   CHURCH    IIISTOKY. 

Then  he  may  jndge  them  in  their  bearings  on  the  great  ends 
for  which  the  church  was  instituted.  And  all  the  facts  in 
both  the  external  and  internal  history  of  the  church,  its  pro- 
gress and  its  reverses,  its  constitution,  doctrines,  and  ritual, 
its  theologies,  and  its  spiritual  life,  its  effects  on  nations  and 
the  influence  of  races  upon  itself,  its  contests  with  human 
thought  in  all  the  phases  of  philosophy,  its  bearings  on  social, 
moral,  and  political  well-being,  its  relations  to  art  and  cul- 
ture, all  these  points  fall,  in  their  historical  aspects,  under  the 
department  of  historical  theology,  they  constitute  the  materials 
of  the  science  of  church  history. 

AYhat  is,  then,  the  true  idea  of  this  science  ?  We  may  an- 
swer this  inquiry  by  considering  these  three  points :  that  it  is 
history,  that  it  is  church  history,  and  that  it  is  the  science  of 
church  history. 

1.  It  is,  in  the  first  place,  history  with  which  we  have  to 
do ;  and  the  history  of  the  church  falls  nnder  the  conditions 
and  laws,  and  has  the  dignity  of  all  history.  It  is  what  has 
been  transacted  on  the  theatre  of  the  world  in  its  past  cen- 
turies through  human  agencies,  made  known  to  us  by  means  of 
monuments  and  testimony.  It  is  a  body  of  facts,  but  speciti- 
cally  of  facts  about  the  human  race.  It  is  with  man  that 
history  has  to  do ;  we  can  talk  of  a  history  of  animals  or  of 
nature  only  by  courtesy.  It  is  with  men  collectively  that  his- 
tory has  to  do,  and  not  as  individuals ;  historical  personages 
are  historical  because  they  are  the  actors  in  events  which 
affect  the  general  good.  The  life  of  an  individual  is  a  bio- 
graphy ;  the  life  of  a  community  is  its  history.  And  such  a 
history  is  made  up  of  a  series  of  events,  an  orderly  succes- 
sion, no  one  of  which  can  be  understood  except  in  its  connec- 
tions with  the  rest.  And  it  is  a  series  of  events  containing 
all  the  great  and  permanent  interests  of  humanity.  Human 
history  in  its  real  charac-ter  is  not  an  account  of  kings  and  of 
wars  ;  it  is  the  unfolding  of  the  moral,  the  political,  the  artis- 
tic, the  social,  and  the  spiritual  progress  of  the  human  family. 
The  time  will  yet  come  when  the  names  of  dynasties  and  of 
battles  shall  not  form  the   titles  to  its  chapters.     And  the 


THE    GREATNESS    OF    HISTORY.  55 

events  of  history  are  great,  because  tliey  are  freighted  with 
the  weal  and  w^oe  of  States,  with  the  social  and  moral  wel- 
fare of  mankind.  Historical  facts  have  not  only  an  existence 
in  space  and  time,  but  they  have  also  a  moral  life,  they  are 
instinct  with  the  vitality  of  human  interests.  The  whole 
movements  of  past  centuries,  and  the  whole  momentum  of 
centuries  3-et  unborn  may  meet  uj^on  a  single  plain,  a  single 
day,  a  single  will.  And  of  such  epochs  is  the  history  of  our 
earth  made  up  in  its  majestic  course,  as  the  historic  races  of 
the  human  family  have  come  one  after  another  into  the  van 
of  that  uncounted  and  ever  advancing  host  which  started 
from  its  cradle  in  the  East,  swarmed  through  the  plains  of 
the  Oiient,  skirted  all  the  outline  of  the  Mediterranean, 
toiled  with  slow  advance  from  southern  Europe  even  to  its 
Northern  shores,  leaped  the  flaming  walls  of  the  old  world, 
and  now  finds  its  largest  theatre  in  this  our  Western  ct)n- 
tinent,  whither  all  nations,  tribes  and  tongues  are  congrega- 
ting, bearing  witli  them  the  elements,  from  which,  it  may  be, 
the  liighest  destiny  of  man  is  to  be  wrought  out. 

The  greatness  of  history  consists  then,  essentially,  in  these 
two  things  :  that  it  is  a  body  of  facts,  and  that  these  facts  are 
a  means  of  leading  us  to  a  knowledge  of  the  great  realities  of 
human  welfare,  and  of  the  actual  development  of  the  race 
under  the  pressure  of  all  its  vital  interests.  Its  solidity  is  in 
its  facts  ;  it  is  above  the  sphere  of  mere  speculation,  as  much 
as  is  nature,  though  it  is  a  proper  and  tlie  highest  object  of 
speculative  inquiry.  And  it  is  impossible  to  get  at  a  compre- 
hensive view  of  man's  nature  and  destiny,  without  the  lights 
and  monuments  of  the  past.  The  most  speculative  nation  of 
modern  times,  in  its  reaction  from  the  unsatisfying  results 
of  its  universal  and  abstract  philosophical  systems,  has 
thrown  itself  with  ardor  into  the  most  elaborate  historical 
investigations.  The  most  imposing  pantheistic  system  which 
was  ever  framed,  the  most  compact  and  consistent,  was  bereft 
of  its  power,  chiefly  in  its  attempt  to  reconstruct  the  moral 
and  religious  history  of  mankind  in  conformity  with  its 
desolating  principles.    It  fell  upon  this  stone  and  was  broken. 


56  SCIENCE    OF   CHURCH    HISTORY. 

It  touched  the  monuments  of  time  and  became  impotent. 
Fiction  may  be  great,  but  history  is  grand.  Philosophy  is 
noble,  but  history  is  its  test. 

It  is  now  the  province  of  the  historian  to  revivify  the 
past.  Its  successive  periods  are  to  live  again  upon  the  his- 
toric page.  "  Even  what  from  its  antiquity  is  but  little 
known,"  says  Harris  in  his  Hermes,  "  may,  on  that  \^ry 
account,  have  all  the  charm  of  novelty."  It  will  have  this,  if 
the  historian  gives  us,  not  dead  facts,  but  living  men,  and 
broad  human  interests.  Of  that  high  art  which  thus  makes 
the  past  present  and  the  absent  real.  Gibbon  is  the  greatest 
English  master,  though  his  vision  reached  only  to  the  con- 
fines of  the  central  kingdom  of  our  earth.  The  historian  is 
also  to  reproduce  events,  so  that  we  may  read  them  better 
than  did  the  very  actors  in  them  ;  for  he  who  is  fighting  in 
the  thick  of  the  conflict  sees  but  a  small  part  of  the  move- 
ments of  the  army,  and  even  the  general  who  directs  the  host 
cannot  foresee  the  results  of  his  victory  or  disaster.  But  in 
the  results  the  historian  is  to  read  the  causes.  He  is  to  teach 
us  the  events  in  the  light  of  their  principles  and  laws.  These 
he  is  to  seek  out  with  a  patient,  a  sympathizing,  a  reverential 
and  a  truly  inductive  spirit.  And  his  true  oftice  is  not  com- 
pleted, if  he  gives  us  only  partial  principles  and  laws,  but 
only  as  he  gives  us  those  which  truly  explain  the  greatest 
results  of  the  greatest  events.  It  is  indeed  true  that  histori- 
cal causes  are  so  manifold,  that  notliing  is  easier  than  to 
build  up  some  brilliant  and  partial  theory,  and  cite  facts  in 
its  confirmation,  but  it  only  requires  a  more  thorough  study 
of  history  to  disclose  the  deception,  just  as  it  only  needs  an 
open  vision  to  see  that  a  Grecian  temple,  or  a  Gotliic  cathe- 
dral or  a  phalanstery  is  not  the  whole  of  the  landscape, 
though  it  may  engross  the  meditations  of  some  rapt  enthu- 
siast. He  who  thus  reads  history  in  the  liglit  of  all  its 
impregnable  facts,  to  get  from  them  its  laws,  will  be  led 
along  to  see  that  human  motives  and  interests  do  not  embrace 
the  whole  of  it,  but  that  it  is  also  the  spliere  of  a  divine  jus- 
tice, and  the  theatre  of  a  divine  kingdom. 


KELIGIOUS    FAITH    IN    SHAPING    A    PEOPLE  S    CIIARACTEE.       57 

2.  And  this  leads  ns  to  our  second  point,  and  that  is,  tliat 
the  subject  of  our  science  is  not  only  history,  but  church  his- 
tory, that  is,  the  record  of  the  progress  of  the  kingdom  of 
God,  intermingling  with  and  acting  upon  all  the  other  inter- 
ests of  the  human  race,  and  shaping  its  destiny. 

That  man  looks  with  limited  or  with  sealed  vision  upon  the 
annals  of  the  human  race,  who  does  not  descry,  running 
through  all  its  course,  underlying  it,  and  prominent  above  it, 
the  workings  of  a  spiritual  kingdom,  whose  influence,  in  one 
or  another  form,  has  defined  the  metes  and  bounds  of  history. 
To  the  rest  of  history  it  bears  the  same  relation  that  the  gran- 
ite does  to  the  earth's  str?ta,  it  is  both  deepest  and  highest,  it 
su})ports  by  its  solidity  beneath,  and  juts  out  in  its  sublimity 
in  the  loftiest  summits. 

The  chai-acter  of  a  people  is  shaped  in  part  by  its  geograph- 
ical position,  whether  along  the  lines  of  rivers,  or  among  the 
mountains  ;  it  is  formed  in  part  by  the  influence  of  climate, 
and  in  the  same  climate,  by  diversities  of  race ;  political 
institutions  serve  to  make  men  submissive  or  independent ; 
social  influences  act  with  keener  enei-gy,  reacliing  to  the  very 
fireside  ;  more  potent  still  are  strictly  moral  causes,  the  de- 
gree in  which  right  or  w^rong  is  practically  applied  ;  but  that 
which  sliapes  the  whole  character,  and  determines  the  final 
destiny  of  a  people,  that  which  has  always  done  this,  and  from 
the  nature  of  the  case  must  do  this,  is  its  religious  faith.  J'or 
here  are  the  highest  objects  acting  on  the  deepest  and  most 
permanent  wants  of  the  human  heart.  And  in  the  whole 
history  of  man  we  can  trace  the  course  of  one  shaping,  o'er- 
mastering  and  progressive  power,  before  which  all  othei's 
have  bowed,  and  that  is  the  spiritual  kingdom  of  God,  having 
for  its  object  the  redemption  of  man  from  the  ruins  of  the 
apostacy. 

This  kingdom  gives  us  the  three  ideas  in  whose  light  we 
may  best  read  the  history  of  our  race,  and  they  are  sin,  holi- 
ness, and  redemption. 

If  we  could  but  fully  realize  the  majestic  simplicity  of  this 
kingdom,  its  spiritual  nature  and  sublime  intent,  if  we  could 


58  SCIENCE    OF    CHURCH    HISTORY. 

make  present  to  ns  the  full  idea  of  it,  which  is  not  an  idea 
alone,  but  also  a  reality ;  if  we  could  see  that  holiness  is  the 
i^reat  end  of  our  being,  and  that  sin  is  its  very  opposite,  and 
that  redemption  is  for  the  removal  of  sin,  and  the  establish- 
ment of  a  holy  kino-dom,  then  were  we  in  the  right  position 
for  reading,  in  their  highest  meaning,  all  the  records  of  our 
race. 

To  narrate  the  history  of  this  kingdom  is  the  ol)ject  of 
church  history.  And  it  brings  ns  at  once  to  the  very  centre 
and  life  of  all  history.  By  its  light  we  may  discern  the  very 
structure  of  human  history,  even  as  it  is  said  that  the  anatomist 
may  dissect  the  Brazilian  fire-fly  by  the  light  which  it  emits. 
It  rnns  through  the  chi'onicles  of  recorded  time,  from  the  be- 
ffinnino;  even  until  now.  It  has  educated  the  race.  It  was 
revealed  in  the  first  promise  ;  it  survived  tlie  flood  of  waters  ; 
it  was  made  a  special  covenant  in  the  family  of  Abraham ; 
the  law  given  on  Sinai  was  to  prepare  for  its  full  manifesta- 
tion ;  the  Jewish  people  was  secluded  that  it  might  bear  it 
safe  in  type  and  prophecy,  and  in  their  very  lineage,  in  the 
midst  of  the  corruptions  of  Pagan  idolatries  ;  the  heatlien 
nations  came  under  one  empire,  and  through  them  was  dif- 
fused one  language,  that  they  might  be  prepared  for  its  com- 
plete advent ;  and  it  was  brought  to  its  full  establishment, 
and  invested  with  all  its  functions  and  powers,  when  the  Son 
of  God  became  incarnate,  that  He  might  die  for  our  redemp- 
tion ;  and  from  this,  the  era  of  the  Incarnation,  this  kingdom 
has  gone  on,  conflicting  and  conquering,  with  each  centui-y, 
binding  new  trophies  upon  its  victorious  brow,  adding 
strength  to  its  loins  and  swiftness  to  its  feet ;  and  now  it 
remains,  still  militant,  hopeful  as  in  its  eai-liest  youth,  and 
wiser  in  its  matured  vigor,  difl'using  far  and  wide  its  innu- 
merable blessings,  and  bearing  in  its  divine  powers  and  sacred 
truths  the  hopes  and  destiny  of  the  human  race. 

The  true  idea  of  church  histoi'y  then  embraces  these  points : 
God  has  made  a  revelation  of  himself  to  man,  having  for  its 
object  the  redemption  of  man.  "  What  education  is  to  the 
individual,  that  is  revelation  to  the  race."     This  revelation  is 


THE    GENERAL    IDEA    OF    CHURCH    HISTORY.  59 

made  in  a  real,  instituted,  historical  economy.  This  economy 
centres  in  the  Person  and  Work  of  our  Lord,  who  is  the  living 
Head  of  a  new  creation.  Of  the  life,  the  doctrines  and  the 
growth  of  this  new  creation,  the  elect  church,  he  is  the  source, 
through  the  energy  of  his  Spirit.  And  the  history  of  the 
church  tells  us  how  far  the  redemptive  purposes  of  God  have 
been  accomplished  in  the  actual  course  of  human  events. 
That  history,  in  its  actual  course,  has  been  a  connected  series, 
all  its  facts  being  bound  together  by  their  common  reference 
to  ChrisL  and  his  kingdom.  That  history  has  been  a  devel- 
oping process,  not  only  in  the  way  of  external  diffusion,  sub- 
duing the  nations,  not  only  in  its  external  politics,  changing 
to  meet  the  exigencies  of  the  times,  not  only  in  the  applica- 
tion of  its  principles  more  deeply  and  sharply  to  all  the  rela- 
tions and  institutions  of  society,  but  also  in  its  doctrines  which 
have  been  nnfolded,  defined,  and  systematized,  so  as  to  ward 
off  objections,  and  to  bring  the  Christian  system  into  harmony 
with  all  other  truth  as  a  scientific  whole.  This  developing 
process  is  not  arbitrary,  but  it  has  its  laws,  and  also  its  tests, 
both  of  which  it  is  the  duty  of  the  historian  to  set  forth.  lie 
is  to  exhibit  all  the  elements  which  constitute  the  Christian 
church,  in  their  just  relations,  doctrines,  polity,  spiritual  life, 
and  external  events  acting  upon  each  other,  and  all  working 
together  in  the  unfolding  of  the  kingdom  of  God.  And  this 
history  does  not  stand  alone  ;  it  is  a  part  of  universal  history, 
containing  its  central  and  controlling  elements  ;  so  that  as  a 
mere  matter  of  historic  justice,  he  who  would  study  the  re- 
cords of  the  race  with  a  humility  like  that  which  animates 
the  true  minister  and  interpreter  of  nature,  will  find  impressed 
upon  them  the  principles  and  laws  of  that  supernatural  king- 
dom, whose  final  glories  shall  be  hymned  in  anthems  of  exult- 
ing praise  in  that  heavenly  realm  where  the  triumphant 
church  shall  celebrate  the  centuries  of  its  jubilee. 

This  is  the  general  idea  of  church  history.  And  here  1 
cannot  forbear  citing  a  passage  from  the  works  of  the  elder 
Edwards,  our  greatest  American  divine,  which,  taken  for  all 
in  all,  is  perhaps  the  most  remarkable  he  ever  penned,  and 


60  SCIENCE   OF   CHURCH   HISTOKT. 

which  shows  the  clearest  insight  into  the  real  nature  of  the 
Christian  cliurch.  In  his  letter  to  the  Trustees  of  Pi-incetou 
College,  when  they  invited  him  to  their  presidency,  he  says : 
"  I  have  on  my  mind  and  heart  a  great  woi-k,  which  I  call  a 
History  of  liedemption,  a  body  of  divinity  in  an  entire  new 
method,  being  throwni  into  the  form  of  a  history,  considering 
the  affair  of  Christian  theology,  as  the  whole  of  it,  in  each 
part,  stands  in  reference  to  the  great  work  of  Redemption  by 
Jesus  Christ ;  which  I  suppose  to  be  of  all  others  the  grand 
design  of  God  and  the  summum  and  ultimura  of  all  the 
divine  operations  and  decrees;  particularly  considering  all 
parts  of  the  grand  scheme  in  their  historical  order  ;  the  order 
of  their  existence  or  their  being  brought  forth  to  view  in  the 
course  of  divine  dispensations,  or  the  wonderful  series  of  suc- 
cessive acts  and  events  ;  beginning  from  eternity  and  descend- 
ing from  thence  to  the  great  work  and  successive  disjjensa- 
tions  of  the  infinitely  wise  God,  in  time  ;  considering  the 
chief  events  coming  to  pass  in  the  church  of  God,  and  revo- 
lutions in  the  world  of  mankind,  affecting  the  state  of  the 
church,  and  the  affair  of  redemption,  which  we  have  an 
account  of  in  history  or  prophecy,  till  at  last  we  come  to  the 
general  resurrection,  last  judgment  and  consummation  of  all 
things,  when  it  shall  be  said  :  '  It  is  done.  I  am  Alpha  and 
Omega,  the  beginning  and  the  end ; '  concluding  my  woi-k 
with  a  consideration  of  that  perfect  state  of  things  which 
shall  be  finally  settled,  to  last  for  eternity.  This  history  will 
be  carried  on  with  regard  to  all  three  worlds,  heaven,  earth 
and  hell,  considering  the  connected,  successive  events  and 
alterations  in  each,  so  far  as  the  Scriptures  give  any  light ; 
introducing  all  parts  of  divinity  in  that  order  which  is  most 
scriptural  and  most  natural ;  a  method  which  appears  to  me 
the  most  beautiful  and  entertaining,  wherein  every  divine 
doctrine  will  appear  to  the  greatest  advantage,  in  the  bright- 
est light,  in  the  most  striking  manner,  showing  the  admirable 
contexture  and  harmony  of  the  whole."  In  this  most  striking 
sketch,  which  is  only  partially  carried  out  in  Edwards's 
Posthumous  History  of  Redemption,  and  in  which  the  very 


CHURCH    HISTORY    TO    BE    EXHIBITED    IN    SCIENTIFIC    FORM.    61 

involutions  of  the  style  show  the  pressure  of  the  ideas  that 
are  struggling  for  utterance,  we  have  an  outline  of  the  his- 
tory of  the  churcli,  as  noble  as  any  man  ever  sketclied,  as  yet 
unrivalled  in  the  English  tongue,  and  which,  of  the  men  of 
his  age,  Jonathan  Edwards  alone  conld  fully  conceive  :  solus 
sed  sic  sol. 

S.  The  third  point  necessary  to  an  understanding  of  the 
true  nature  of  our  subject  is,  that  chuich  history  is  to  be 
exhibited  in  a  scientific  form.  It  is  history,  it  is  church  his- 
tory, and  it  is  the  science  of  church  history.  It  ought  to  be 
studied  in  a  scientific  method,  in  accordance  with  true  scien- 
tific princi^iles. 

That  exhibition  of  a  subject,  properly  called  scientific,  con- 
sists essentially  in  this — that  its  facts  are  brought  under  their 
legitimate  laws  or  principles,  and  tliat  they  are  viewed  in 
their  connections  with  the  causes  which  liave  produced  them, 
and  the  ends  to  be  accomplished  by  them.  The  basis  of  all 
science  is  facts  ;  the  first  process  is  to  bring  these  facts  under 
their  appropriate  general  laws.  Many  j)]iilosopliers,  especially 
in  the  natural  sciences,  stop  here,  neglecting  both  the  efficient 
and  final  causes,  scouting  them  as  metaphysical,  or  banishing 
them  to  what  they  esteem  a  barren  theology.  This  view  not 
only  limits  science,  but  it  favors  pantheism.  And  it  is  essen- 
tially unphilosophical,  for  the  inquiry  after  the  really  efficient 
causes,  and  the  ends  of  phenomena  is  as  philosophical  as  the 
inquiry  after  their  immediate  antecedents. 

And  what  we  here  claim  is  that  the  history  of  the  Christian 
church  ought  to  be  presented  in  a  scientific  method.  As  so 
presented,  it  is  one  of  the  noblest  objects  to  which  human 
thought  can  be  directed.  And  tliis  is  now  of  special  impor- 
tance, in  consequence  of  the  prevalence  of  partial  and  unchris- 
tian speculations  about  the  history  and  destiny  of  the  human 
race. 

The  time  is  past  when  history  could  be  viewed  as  a  bare 
narrative  of  events,  w^ithout  any  purj)ose  or  deductions.  Every- 
body now-a-days  speculates  about  events,  more  or  less,  well, 
badly  or  still  worse.     That  style  of  treating  history  too,  which 


62  SCIENCE    OF    CHURCH    PIISTORY. 

consisted  in  explaining  all  great  events  by  merely  personal 
motives,  is  tolerably  antiquated,  as  if  the  Reformation  broke 
out  because  Luther  wished  to  marry  Catherine  von  Bora,  or 
Mohammedanism  sprang  up  because  Mohammed  was  ambi- 
tious and  had  visions  in  epilepsy.  It  has  even  been  found 
that  steam,  electricity,  gunpowder  and  printing  are  not  suf- 
ficient to  account  for  the  whole  of  modern  civilization,  and 
w^e  only  wonder  at  the  enthusiastic  admirer  of  the  typographic 
art,  who  exclaimed  :  "  Be  not  deceived,  Luther  was  great,  but 
Gutenberg  was  greater."  All  thiidcing  men  must  and  will 
seek  for  higher  and  better  causes  for  the  great  events  of  time. 
At  the  same  tiine,  many  a  brilliant  and  partial  generalization 
of  the  facts  of  history,  which  protrudes  some  social  or  politi- 
cal object  as  the  great  end  of  the  race,  is  seducing  even  ear-, 
nest  and  thoughtful  minds  fi-om  the  simplicity  and  sublimity 
of  the  Christian  faith.  And  hence  we  say  it  is  well  to  pre- 
sent the  history  of  the  church  in  a  truly  scientific  way,  that 
the  superiority  of  Christianity  may  be  evinced.  Church  his- 
tory is  now  to  be  conducted  and  taught  in  comparison  and 
contrast  with  the  false  philosophy  of  history.  And,  as  thus 
taught,  it  is  the  best  philosophy  of  history  which  can  be  writ- 
ten, the  best  vindication  of  the  ways  of  God  with  man.  It  is 
the  true  philosophy  of  human  history. 

What  is  necessary  to  such  a  view  of  it  we  will  proceed  to 
state  in  the  light  of  that  definition  of  science  which  has  been 
already  given.  According  to  this,  the  scientific  exhil)ition  of 
the  history  of  the  church  WT)uld  consist  in  the  presentation  of 
all  the  facts  tliat  concern  the  kingdom  of  God  in  Christ,  in 
their  orderly  succession,  with  their  causes,  whether  proximate 
or  ultimate,  and  in  their  bearings  on  the  divine  purpose  for 
the  redemption  of  the  world  through  Jesus  Christ,  which  pur- 
pose will  be  fulfilled  in  the  perfect  fellowship  of  a  divine 
kingdom,  where  justice  shall  adjust  and  love  harmonize  the 
relations  of  all  its  members. 

For  the  sake  of  distinctness,  it  may  be  well  to  bring  out 
more  definitely  the  points  embraced  in  this  statement. 

Church  history  rests  upon  a  broad  basis  of   facts,  given  in 


CHRISTIAN    PIIILOSOPIir    OF    HISTOKT.  63 

the  Hevelation  on  which  it  reposes,  or  in  the  course  of  its  his- 
tory.    This  is  the  basis  of  the  science. 

Tliese  facts  are  to  be  presented,  as  they  occni-red,  in  oi-derly 
succession,  grou^^ed  around  the  signal  epo(;hs  in  which  the 
combined  interests  and  relations  of  the  church  have  under- 
gone some  decisive  change.  Such  points  of  convergence  and 
divergence  are,  for  example,  the  age  of  Constantine  and  tlie 
Reformation.  This  would  give  us  the  real  historic  course 
and  main  epochs  of  the  history. 

Here,  then,  we  have  a  series  of  events,  comprising  the 
great  and  decisive  interests  of  the  human  race.  The  inquiry 
next  suggested  is,  what  are  the  principles  and  laws  upon 
which  this  development  has  proceeded,  what  are  the  actual 
principles,  and  what  is  their  inherent  worth  ?  Tlie  proxi- 
mate principles,  now,  are  unquestionably  the  motives  and 
feelings  of  the  actors  in  the  events.  But  the  motives  of  the 
actors  are  determined  by  more  general  causes,  inherent  in  the 
times  and  the  institutions  in  the  midst  of  which  they  live  and 
act. 

And  in  determining  these  more  general  causes,  Cliristian 
philosophy  runs  counter  to  all  naturalistic  or  pantheistic 
schemes.  The  latter  find  them  in  an  impersonal  reason,  in 
universal  ideas,  in  human  interests  or  rights,  in  abstract  laws, 
in  social  impulses.  The  former  refers  them  ultimately  to  the 
purpose  of  God,  to  a  real  personal  providence,  to  an  Incar- 
nate Redeemer,  to  the  living  agencies  in  a  divine  kingdom. 
The  one  makes  them  to  be  from  God,  the  other  from  reason  ; 
the  one  speaks  of  a  real  manifestation  of  God,  the  other  of  an 
advance  in  human  freedom.  The  latter  equally  with  the 
former  must  concede  the  actual  existence  of  the  church  and 
its  history  ;  but  he  tries  to  explain  this  history  without  God, 
or  Christ,  or  the  Spirit's  influences,  and  without  assuming 
the  reality  of  the  truths  which  centre  in  this  kingdom. 
Christian  philosophy  does  not  deny  that  men  ai'e  animated  by 
ideas  of  justice  and  freedom,  by  political  and  social  rights, 
for  this  were  unwise  and  contrary  to  fact,  but  it  says  that 
the  facts  of  history  are  not  fully  and  rationally  explained  by 


64  SCIENCE    OF    CHUECH    HISTORY. 

them  alone,  that  they  demand  more  than  this.  It  does  not 
deny  that  there  is  in  history  a  mixture  of  causes,  some  good 
and  some  evil,  but  it  says  that  the  overruling  ones  have  been 
for  good,  and  chiefly  through  the  church  of  Christ,  and  wholly 
through  the  providence  of  God.  It  claims  that  the  very  facts 
of  church  history,  which  all  must  grant  to  be  a^^art  of  human 
history,  cannot  be  rationally  accounted  for,  excepting  on  the 
supposition  of  tlie  liistoric  reality  of  the  grand  revelation  of 
God  in  Christ  and  his  kingdom. 

Abstract  ideas,  or  liuuian  interests,  or  both  combined,  will 
not  account  for  the  rise  and  growth  of  such  an  econouiy  as  is 
the  Christian  Church.  It  has  been  admirably  said  :  "  There 
h  one  symbolical  book  of  the  Christian  faith,  which  will  ever 
do  despite  to  the  attacks  of  a  negative  criticism,  and  this  is 
the  history  of  the  world.  In  proportion  as  historical  inves- 
tigations ai-e  elaborated  into  an  universal  historical  science, 
in  the  same  proportion  will  Christ  be  acknowledged  as  the 
eternal  and  divine  substance  of  the  whole  historical  life  of  the 
world,  and  his  sacred  person  will  greet  us  everywhere  on  the 
historic  page,  as  it  also  greets  us  everywhere  in  the  Scriptures 
of  our  faith."* 

But  to  explain  aright  this  historical  progress  of  the  church, 
we  need  a  test  as  well  as  a  cause  ;  we  need  to  ask  for  the 
value  and  authority  of  the  facts.  For  without  such  a  test  we 
are  in  utter  confusion,  and  must  take  all  as  it  comes,  for  better 
or  worse.  "We  may  become  the  prey  of  any  system  of  delu- 
sion under  the  vague  notion  that  it  is  a  part  of  the  historical 
development.  Rome  might  claim  us,  for  she  has  been  devel- 
(;ped  ;  all  the  systems  of  philosophy  might  claim  us,  for  all 
the  systems  of  philosophy  have  been  developed ;  all  the  sects 
in  Christendom  might  invoke  our  homage,  for  all  the  sects  in 
Christendom  have  been  developed  ;  all  the  parties  out  of 
Christendom  might  claim  us,  for  all  the  parties  out  of  Chris- 
tendom have  been  developed.  And  if  we  were  divided  among 
them  all,  little  of  faith  or  reason  would  be  left  to  us. 

No  idea  more  vague  or  unsubstantial  has  ever  been  more 

*  So,  for  substance,  Professor  Braniss  of  Bonn,  in  his  History  of  Philosophy. 


THE   BIBLE   THE   TEST    OF    UISTOEY.  65 

current  than  has  that  of  a  mere  development.  It  is  not  merely 
pernicious,  it  is  also  worthless,  unless  we  can  show  what  it  is 
that  is  developed,  what  are  the  laws  that  regulate  the  devel- 
opment, and  what  are  the  tests  by  which  it  is  to  be  tried. 
And  here  is  where  tlie  philosophy  of  history  must  differ  from 
the  philosophy  of  nature.  In  studying  nature  we  may  be 
content  with  generalizing  the  facts,  thus  getting  at  its  laws ; 
although  a  rigid  and  complete  method  would  compel  us  to 
carry  our  speculations  still  farther.  But  in  studying  history, 
in  the  investigation  of  moral  causes,  we  need  a  test  by  which 
to  try  the  facts  and  the  principles ;  for  sin  is  in  history  as 
well  as  holiness,  error  as  well  as  truth,  man  as  well  as  God. 
We  need  a  test,  and  one  not  taken  at  random,  but  approved 
as  such  by  the  very  course  of  history  itself. 

And  to  the  believer  in  a  divine  revelation,  such  a  test  is 
given  in  the  sacred  Scriptures.  By  its  truths  and  doctrines 
all  liistory,  and  especially  the  history  of  the  church,  is  to  be 
judged.  And  that  this  test  is  not  an  arbitrary  one  may  be 
inferred,  not  only  from  the  proof  of  the  inspiration  of  tlie 
Bible,  but  also  from  the  actual  course  of  human  history.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  the  truths  revealed  in  the  Bible  have  been 
th.e  touch-stone  which  has  tried  men's  spirits.  Human  spec- 
ulation has  not  gone  beyond,  has  not  even  fathomed  its  won- 
derful revelations.  It  has  been  the  historical  arbiter  of 
Christian  controversy.  Its  perversions  have  been  judgments, 
and  its  truths  lio-ht  and  life.  It  is  a  marvellous  thinof  to  see 
the  supremacy  of  this  Revelation  in  the  actual  course  of  hu- 
man history.  It  is  instructive  to  read  the  histoiy  of  the 
churcli,  and  all  human  history,  by  its  light.  For,  as  a  inatter 
of  simple  fact,  the  whole  history  of  the  church  might  be 
summed  np  with  saying  that  it  consists  in  pouring  into  the 
human  race  the  treasures  of  this  volume,  there  to  germinate, 
until  the  kingdom  revealed  in  word  and  promise  shall  be  fully 
manifested  in  its  reality  and  power. 

To  complete  the  philosophical  view  of  Christian  liistor}-, 
one  additional  point  is  needed,  and  that  is  the  exhibition  of 
the  end  or  ol)ject  to  which  the  history  is  tending.  Of  any- 
5 


6Q  SCIENCE    OF    CHURCH    HISTORY. 

thing  living  and  spiritnal,  we  do  not  have  the  true  conception, 
nntil  we  know  the  end  for  which  it  was  made,  as  well  as  the 
actual  course  and  laws  of  its  growth.  We  understand  man 
fully  only  in  the  light  of  the  ends  of  his  being.  We  have  no 
intelligent  apprehension  of  the  true  nature  of  the  Christian 
church,  until  we  see  not  only  tlie  course  and  laws  of  its  his- 
tory, but  also  hotv  the  whole  course  of  its  history  bears  on  the 
great  object  for  which  it  was  instituted.  That  object  is  the 
bringing  the  race  back  to  union  with  God,  through  the  grace 
of  Christ,  by  the  influences  of  the  Spirit,  and  in  the  fellowship 
of  men  one  with  another.  And  this  object  can  only  be 
achieved  by  the  application  of  the  principles  of  God's  king- 
dom to  all  human  relations  and  institutions,  bringing  them 
all  under  its  divine  supremacy,  in  accordance  with  justice  and 
in  subordination  to  love.  It  is  the  bringing  all  inferior  ends 
into  subjection  to  the  highest  end,  it  is  the  making  the  laws 
of  a  divine  kingdom  supreme  over  all  laws.  Church  history 
shows  how  far  this  end  has  been  actually  accomplished,  and 
it  ought  to  make  us  both  wise  and  earnest  in  carrying  on  the 
church  still  further  towards  the  same  great  object. 

In  the  irreatness  and  grandeur  of  the  end  which  Christian- 
ity  thus  holds  out  to  man,  the  superiority  of  the  Christian 
system  over  all  other  systems  is  most  fully  manifested.  It 
embraces  more  than  they  all,  and  what  is  more  adapted  to 
human  wants,  and  what  is  more  consistent  with  the  facts  of 
history.  For  the  most  current  and  fascinating  of  these  schemes 
represents  some  purely  human  or  social  interests,  some  organ- 
ization for  the  promotion  of  "  humanitarian"  ends,  as  the 
great  object  for  which  the  race  has  been  toiling,  as  the  grand 
secret  so  long  hidden  in  the  womb  of  parturient  time,  with 
which  she  has  been  in  travail  these  six  thousand  years,  and 
of  which  she  is  soon  to  be  delivered.  But  never  was  there  so 
long  a  labor  for  so  slight  a  progeny.  This  toil  of  all  the  na- 
tions, these  conflicts  of  the  church,  this  slow  advance  through 
strife,  only  to  issue  in  the  securing  of  political  rights,  and  a 
better  social  state!  If  any  view  could  lead  us  to  despair  of 
Providence  and  of  man,  it  is  such  a  view  of  human  history  as 


HUMAN    EIGHTS    AND    REASON   NOT    TO    BE    DENIED.  67 

this.  All  the  great  labors  and  conflicts  of  the  past  have  been 
for  unreal  objects.  And  this  is  the  view  of  those  who  believe 
in  man  alone,  and  in  the  supremacy  of  reason  ;  they  are  the 
very  ones  who  find  the  least  of  truth  in  history,  and  nothing 
of  permanency  in  the  church,  which  still  has  been  made  up 
of  rational  men. 

But  while  protesting  against  such  philosophemes  and  such 
a  view  of  human  history,  as  essentially  defective,  and  contrary 
to  fact,  we  should  also  be  careful  not  to  err  on  the  other  ex- 
treme, and  deny  human  rights  and  human  reason,  and  be  in- 
different to  social  progress.  It  is  a  dishonor  to  the  church  to 
suppose  that  it  can  be  indifferent  to  these  questions.  One  of 
the  ends  of  Christianity,  not  its  highest  end,  but  necessary 
thereto,  is  to  elevate  reason,  to  secure  freedom,  and  to  enhance 
all  social  blessings.  To  take  any  other  ground  is  to  leave 
Christianity  in  the  background.  The  Christian  church  must 
set  itself  right  with  these,  or  it  loses  its  hold  of  the  age,  as  did 
Rome,  three  centuries  ago.  It  must  show  its  superiority  to  all 
other  systems,  chiefly  by  showing  that  only  on  its  basis  can 
human  rights  be  safely  adjusted,  human  welfare  promoted, 
and  a  higher  social  state  introduced  among  mankind.  Chris- 
tianity is  designed  to  make  this  world  fairer,  and  wiser,  and 
happier.  It  must  sliow  its  supremacy,  by  laboring  for  all 
human  interests  with  the  wisest  zeal  and  the  calmest  energy, 
and  the  most  assured  conviction,  keeping  them  subordinate  in 
theory  and  in  life,  to  the  one  comprehensive  purpose  which 
includes  all  the  others,  and  that  is,  redemptioii^from  sin. 
Without  haste,  but  without  rest,  earnestly,  yet  wisely,  protest- 
ing against  all  that  is  unjust,  and  laboring  for  its  eradication, 
with  an  intense  sympathy  for  all  who  suffer,  and  bear  the 
burdens,  and  know  the  wretchedness  of  our  mortal  life,  giving 
with  the  largest  charity,  having  the  very  spirit  of  self-sacrifice 
in  heart  and  in  life,  ever  working  for  truth  and  righteousness, 
and  believing  that  they  will  come,  using,  as  has  been  said,  the 
very  ruins  of  our  earth,  to  build  up  the  temple  of  our  Lord, — 
in  such  a  spirit,  and  with  such  ends,  must  the  church  of  the 
redeemed  labor,  if  it  is  to  set  forth  the  inherent  superiority  of 


68  SCIENCE    OF    CriTJRCII    HISTORY. 

the  Christian  system ;  and  under  such  a'^pects  must  it  be 
viewed,  that  it  may  realize  the  full  idea  of  the  kingdom  of 
Christ,  as  a  holy  society  exhiliiting,  the  manifest  glory  of  the 
supreme  God  in  the  redemption  of  mankind  from  all  the 
consequences  of  the  great  apostasy. 

Such  is  the  sublime  view  of  the  great  objects  at  which  God 
is  aiming,  and  of  the  final  destiny  of  the  race,  which  is  given 
us  in  the  Christian  church  and  its  history.  All  the  interests 
of  the  human  race  are  garnered  up  in  its  comprehensive  pur- 
poses. It  has  principles  so  universal  and  efiicient,  that  they 
alone  can  reconcile  the  conflicts  and  restore  the  disorders  of 
our  fallen  state.  It  gives  us  the  most  elevated  and  inspiring 
view  of  the  ultimate  destiny  of  the  Iiuman  race.  It  gives  us 
not  a  speculation,  but  a  real  historical  economy ;  not  a  merely 
projected  scheme,  but  one  which  has  endured  and  con- 
quered, one  which  has  thus  far  approved  itself  as  adapted 
to  human  wants  and  to  human  welfare.  It  gives  us  a 
kingdom  which  reaches  forward  through  the  w^orld,  be- 
yond the  world,  even  to  the  eternity  of  our  being.  It  is  a 
kingdom,  too,  in  which  are  first  adjusted  the  highest  antago- 
nisms, as  the  means  of  harmonizing  all  our  lesser  conflicts. 
It  gives  us  agencies  sufficient  to  carry  all  these  ends  into  ful- 
filment. This  kingdom,  reposing  for  its  foundation  upon  the 
purpose  of  the  Father,  centering  in  the  God-man,  divine  and 
human  both,  animated  by  the  living  energy  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
adjusting  the  relations  between  a  holy  God  and  a  sinful  world, 
intended  to  reconcile  men  with  each  other  as  well  as  with 
God,  and  having  for  its  object  the  final  redemption  of  man- 
kind,— such  a  kingdom  is  as  far  superior  in  its  majesty  and 
rightful  authority  to  any  merely  philosophical  speculation 
about  the  destiny  of  the  race,  as  fact  is  superior  to  theory, 
and  as  a  divinely-revealed  system  is  superior  to  the  one-sided 
excogitations  of  the  poor  sciolist,  who  talks  as  if  humanity 
were  all,  and  as  if  his  own  speculations  were  the  first  light 
that  has  ever  illumined  the  earth. 

This  exhibition  of  the  great  ends  to  be  wrought  out  by  the 
church  completes  the  scientific  view  of  its  history,  and  gives 


THE   DIVINE   CIRCLE    OF    HISTORY. 


69 


to  it  fulness  and  roundness ;  that  which  was  from  the  begin- 
ning in  the  purpose  of  the  Father  is  that  which  is  realized  in 
the'end  in  the  kingdom  of  his  Son.  And  thus  the  circle  is 
completed,  tlie  end  returns  to  the  beginning,  and  God  is  all 

in  all. 

And  if  the  inquiry  about  the  ends  for  which  the  race  was 
made  is  a  necessary  inquiry,  if  no  science  can  be  complete 
which  does  not  answer  it,  and  if  that  science  is  best,  which 
answers  it  from  the  point  of  view  which  embraces  all  the  re- 
lations of  man,  then,  on  the  basis  of  the  Christian  revelation, 
may  we  erect  the  best  science  of  human  history,  for  here  we 
know  by  the  sure  word  of  prophecy,  what  is  the  great  end  set 
before  the  human  race. 

Such  a  scientific  view  of  the  history  of  the  church  as  is 
that,  whose  outline  we  have  thus  attempted  to  sketch,  gives  us 
the  real  philosophy  of  human  history,  and  that,  too,  not  on 
speculative  but  on  historical  grounds.     That  there  is  such  a 
philosophy  not  all  the  vagaries  and  delusions  of  infidel  specu- 
lations should  lead  us  to  deny.     They  should  rather  induce 
ns  to  use  the  old  prerogative  of  our  faith,  that  of  turning  the 
weapons  forged  in  the  camp  of  its  enemies,  into  the  means  of 
its  own  defence  and   victory.     They  should  lead  us  to  show 
that  that  view  of  human  nature  and  destiny,  which  is  given 
by  the  light  of  Christianity,  is  immeasurably  more  comprehen- 
sive and^elevating,  more  friendly  to  real  progress  and  rights, 
more  accordant  with  the  whole  welfare  of  mankind,  and  more 
consistent  with  all  the  facts  of  history  than  any  scheme  which 
infidel  speculation  is  capable  of  projecting.     Until  any  one 
can  propound  a  system,  which  shall  propose  to  do  more,  and 
what  is  more  needed,  than  the  redemption  of  a  sinful  worid 
through   an   incarnate   God,  in   an   eternal   kingdom,  whose 
blessings   are   bestowed   on  all  who  will   accept  them,  the 
supremacy  of  Christianity  as  a  system  must  needs  be  conceded. 
And  this  is  our  confidence— either  Christianity  is  to  go  on, 
and  do  its  work,  and  redeem  the  race— or  it  will  be  superseded 
by  something  higher  and  better,  and  if  so,— by  what  ? 

And  it  is  our  conviction  that  if  any  would  really  study  the 


70  SCIENCE    OF    CHURCH    HISTORY. 

history  of  onr  earth  in  a  truly  philosophical  and  docile  spirit, 
even  if  he  began  from  the  merely  human  point  of  view, 
asking  only  what  has  actually  approved  itself  as  best  and 
highest  to  man,  that  he  would  be  led  through  the  race  above 
the  race ;  that  from  the  very  facts  of  the  case  he  would  come 
to  the  recognition  of  the  existence,  and  authority  and  need  of 
just  such  a  Idugdom,  and  of  just  such  a  view  of  human  history, 
as  is  given  us  in  the  records  of  the  Christian  church.  If  any 
do  not  come  to  such  a  result,  it  is  because  they  do  not  study 
history  in  a  truly  inductive  spirit,  or  else  they  study  it  witli 
some  preconceived  bias  against  Christianity.  Those  who 
think  metaphysics  to  be  the  highest  of  blessings,  and  abstrac- 
tions to  be  the  great  realities,  might  come  to  different  results. 
But  this  is  because  they  have  neither  reverence  for  facts,  nor 
a  right  method  of  interpreting  them.  They  do  not  study 
history  to  learn,  but  to  try  their  own  schemes  upon  it.  They 
destroy  the  substance  of  the  facts  to  make  out  their  theories. 
There  was  once  a  statue  of  Isis,  veiled,  in  the  hall  of  a  priest's 
temple  at  Memphis.  His  son,  longing  to  see  the  face,  struck 
off  the  veil  with  hammer  and  chisel,  and  found  onl}^  a  block 
of  raw,  shapeless  stone.  And  this  wise  child  is  no  unapt  re- 
presentative of  those  who  study  history  without  reverence, 
and  without  taking  into  account  the  fact  that  man  is  a  relig- 
ious being ;  they  may  strike  off  the  veil  of  the  divinity,  and 
then  say  there  is  no  divinity  there  ;  but  they  have  not  studied 
the  statue,  they  have  only  tried  the  power  of  a  hammer  and 
a  chisel.  If  we  reverence  the  divinity  that  is  in  history,  we 
shall  see  it  thi-ough  its  veil,  we  shall  feel  and  know  its  power, 
we  shall  see  that  there  is  a  divinity  which  shapes  man's  ends, 
rough-hew  tliem  as  he  may. 

I  should  be  doing  a  silent  injustice  to  the  memory  of  a 
venerable  and  beloved  teacher,  if  I  closed  this  part  of  my 
subject  without  acknowledging  my  indebtedness  for  a  right 
view  of  church  history  to  the  teachings  and  writings  of  the 
most  eminent  church  historian  of  our  day,  the  venerated  and 
beloved  JS'eander.  His  favorite  motto,  inscribed  under  his 
likeness,  was — Now  we  see  through  a  glass  darkly,  but  then 


DIGNITY    OF    CHURCH    HISTORY.  71 

face  to  face.  In  this  spirit  be  lived  and  studied,  and  now, 
we  trust,  he  sees  face  to  face,  taken,  alas  !  too  soon,  as  we 
vainly  say,  in  the  midst  of  his  gigantic  toil  npon  his  incom- 
parable history.  Still  can  we  see  that  familiar  and  bent 
frame,  that  countenance  so  Jewish  in  outline,  and  so  Christian 
in  expression  when  he  let  out  upon  you  the  full  lio-ht  of  his 
eyes,  usually  veiled.  The  records  of  the  Christian  church 
were  the  study  of  his  life^  and  his  works  are  a  monument  to 
the  dignity  of  its  history.  He  explored  the  dark  mines  and 
brought  to  light  radiant  treasures.  He  united  the  most  labori- 
ous research,  with  the  most  genial  sympathy  for  all  that  is 
human,  for  all  that  is  Christian.  We  almost  forget  that  he 
may  have  been  too  lenient,  when  we  remember  how  easy  it  is 
to  be  too  intolerant.  We  think  less  that  he  fails  in  the  graphic 
narrative  of  detail,  because  we  feel  so  deeply  the  richness  of 
that  spirit,  which  could  make  the  whole  of  Christian  history 
so  dear  to  our  hearts,  and  so  elevating  to  our  faith.  While 
we  would  ever  judge  his  particular  opinions  only  by  the 
highest  standard,  we  would  speak  of  himself  as  we  ought  to 
speak  of  a  man,  who  passed  through  all  the  conflicts  of  his 
age  and  country,  and  kept  firm  and  high  his  conviction  of  the 
supernatural  origin  of  Christianity,  and  had  a  living  sense  of 
Christ's  grace,  and  in  all  his  life  and  writings  exemplified 
the  power  of  that  faith  which  overcometh  the  world,  and  of 
that  charity  which  is  the  greatest  of  the  virtues.  And  the 
unobtrusiveness  of  his  studious  life  has  been  equalled  only  by 
the  extent  of  his  growing  influence.  His  memorial  shall  not 
depart  away,  and  his  name  shall  live  from  generation  to 
generation. 

II.  The  Worth  of  the  Science  of  Church  History.  If  the 
view  we  have  given  of  the  science  of  church  history  be  cor- 
rect, we  can  hardly  over-estimate  its  value  for  all  who  are 
interested  in  the  great  problems  of  human  destiny,  and  espe- 
cially for  those  who  are  to  be  the  preachers  of  the  gospel  of 
Christ,  in  our  age  and  country. 

1.  And  it  has,  in  the  first  place,  an  inherent  dignity.  It  is 
valuable  for  its  own  sake. 


72  SCIENCE    OF    CIIUKCH    HISTORY. 

If  a  man  was  made  to  know,  so  that  all  knowledge  is  good, 
then  must  that  history  be  of  an  elevating  influence,  and  most 
worthy  of  regard,  which  reveals  to  us  what  the  race  is  for, 
what  it  has  been  and  is  to  be,  and  which  brings  us  into  the 
lieart  of  all  its  conflicts.  Tliere  is  something  admirable, 
worthy  even  of  our  wonder,  in  seeing  the  might  and  progress 
of  a  spiritual  kingdom  in  a  sinful  world.  There  is  no  history 
to  be  compared  with  it  in  its  intrinsic  interest  and  grandeur. 
Beginning  among  the  hills  of  Judea,  it  went  forth  amid  the 
chaos  of  pagan  idolatries,  and  witliin  a  century  its  churches 
were  planted,  in  spite  of  persecution,  in  all  the  chief  cities  of 
the  Roman  empire.  It  became  strong  through  suffering. 
The  succession  to  its  chief  churches  was,  as  Kanke  says,  a 
succession  to  martyrdom,  as  well  as  to  office,  but  the  succes- 
sion was  always  full.  It  fought  in  the  shade,  only  because 
the  air  was  fllled  with  the  arrows  of  its  foes.  It  became  so 
strong  in  Rome,  that  neither  a  Nero  nor  a  Decius  could  quench 
its  fires  in  blood.  The  persecutions  of  a  Diocletian  through 
the  whole  empire,  only  served  to  reveal  its  hidden  miglit. 
As  Dante  says  of  the  Pope,  that  his  adversity  was  great,  until 
he  became  great  in  his  adversity,  so  was  it  witli  the  early 
church;  and  when  it  became  great  in  its  adversity,  and  the 
emperors  could  not  suppress  it,  then  they  bowed  before  it. 
It  had  existed  in  the  catacombs,  but  under  Constantine  it  was 
established  upon  the  throne  of  the  Caesars,  and  its  worship 
was  celebrated  in  the  basilicas  of  Constantinople.  It  changed 
the  whole  face  of  the  ancient  world.  When  the  northern 
barbarian  hordes  desolated  the  empire,  the  church  was  consoli- 
dated and  prepared  for  their  coming  ;  so  tliat  although  Italy 
was  laid  waste,  the  kingdom  of  Christ  subdued  these  fierce 
foes  unto  herself.  This  irruption  of  the  North  upon  the 
South,  was  the  providential  means  of  spreading  Christianity 
from  the  south  to  the  north  of  Europe.  The  church  con- 
verted the  Teutonic  races,  which,  under  its  auspices,  have  been 
the  regenerating  element  in  modern  civilization.  When  the 
balance  of  the  political  power  of  Europe  was  transferred  from 
the  south  to  the  north,  the  Papacy  of  the  south  resisted  and 


WHAT  THE  CHURCH  HAS  DONE  FOE  EUROPE  AND  AMERICA.      73 

subdued  the  imperial  encroachments,  in  that  long  strife 
between  Guelph  and  Ghibelline.  It  gave  to  Europe  strength 
to  resist  that  Moslem  zeal  which  strove  to  scale  its  battle- 
ments. It  inflamed  the  prowess  of  that  honorable  yet  corrupt 
chivalry,  which  showed  both  its  might  and  its  blindness,  in 
regaining  the  sepulchre  of  our  Lord.  Through  its  very  suc- 
cesses, the  church  had  now  become  almost  inebriated ;  and 
in  the  pride  of  its  power,  it  usurped  the  place  due  only  to  its 
Head.  Yet,  even  in  the  night  of  the  middle  ages,  its  scholars 
were  giving  needed  shape  and  precision  to  its  theological  sys- 
tems. The  learning  which  it  brougiit  from  the  East,  awak- 
ened a  new  spirit  of  inquiry  ;  its  despotism  provoked  national 
resistance ;  its  Pelagianism  called  out  the  spiritual  prowess 
of  the  heroes  of  the  Eeformation,  and  the  old  Gospel  was 
spoken  anew  in  their  mother  tongues,  to  the  waiting  nations. 
Rome  was  left  in  the  south;  and,  among  the  free  and  inves- 
ti^atino;  nations  of  the  north,  the  church  exhibited  itself  in 
new  forms,  to  meet  the  exigencies  of  that  new  spirit  which 
was  spreading  among  the  people.  It  was  a  new  trial  for  the 
Christian  clnirch,  whether  it  could  maintain  its  authority  in 
the  midst  of  freedom  of  thought  and  of  philosophical  re- 
search. And  Protestantism  has  proved  to  us  that  it  can, — 
the  thoughtful  Protestantism  of  the  Lutheran  churches,  and 
the  a"-o;ressive  and  advancinor  Protestantism  of  the  Eeformed 
churches.  To  the  latter  was  vouchsafed  the  office  of  main- 
taining the  supremacy  of  Christianity  among  the  freest,  the 
most  commercial  nations  of  the  earth.  The  aggressive  and 
progressive  portion  of  modern  church  history  belongs  to  this 
branch  of  the  church.  And  nobly  has  it  fulfilled  its  office, 
both  in  the  old  world  and  in  the  new.  Calvin,  once  said  the 
greatest  living  German  historian,  was  the  virtual  founder  of 
the  United  States  of  America.  And  here  the  Christian 
church  still  lies  at  the  basis  of  our  institutions,  and  sustains 
them  by  its  power,  which  we  feel  the  less,  because  it  is  so 
equally  diffused.  It  has  grown  with  our  growth,  and  strength- 
ened w^ith  our  strength.  That  sacred  kingdom  which  began 
its  contesting  course  at  the  city  of  Jerusalem,  and  passed 


74  SCIENCE    OF    CHURCH    HISTORY. 

victorious  from  Asia  to  Europe,  and  from  the  Mediterranean 
to  the  Baltic,  which  crossed  the  AtLantic  in  adventurous 
barks,  has  extended  itself  through  the  length  and  breadth  of 
our  land,  and  is  now  planted  on  the  borders  of  the  vast 
Pacific,  to  carry  back,  it  may  be,  the  treasures  of  its  grace, 
from  island  to  island,  in  a  returning  course,  to  the  continent 
and  the  hills  whence  it  first  sprung,  and  fill  Jerusalem  with 
a  higher  praise. 

And  what  other  history  can  tell  such  a  tale,  or  know  such 
marvels,  such  conflicts,  and  such  victories  ? 

And  there  is  not  only  this,  its  external  life, — there  is  also 
its  hidden,  spiritual  life, — there  are  its  spiritual  heroes.  It 
has  its  array  of  martyrs  and  confessoi's.  There  is  the  re- 
finer's fire,  and  in  it  the  molten  gold.  It  perpetually  renews  the 
story  of  the  burning  bush  that  is  not  consumed.  It  tells  us 
of  those  who  liave  taken  poverty  for  their  pride,  and,  for  the 
good  of  souls,  gone  to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  It  tells  us  of 
those  who  ''  have  done  things  worthy  to  be  written,  and  writ- 
ten what  is  worthy  to  be  read."  There  are  I'ivers  of  peace, 
gently  flowing,  "  life,  love  and  joy  still  gliding  through  ;  " 
through  its  whole  history  runs  the  river  of  God,  whose  depths 
are  ever  peaceful,  though  its  surface  be  torn  b}^  the  storms. 
And  thus,  from  the  history  of  Christ's  church  we  may  draw 
such  spiritual  lessons,  that  it  shall  be  to  us  indeed  a  "  book 
of  holy  doctrine,'''  nourishing  our  hearts  in  the  truth  and 
love  of  God. 

2.  Another  point  of  view  under  which  the  value  of  church 
history  may  be  considered,  to  which  our  limits  allow  us  only 
to  advert,  is  its  bearings  on  the  vindication  of  God's  provi- 
dence in  his  moral  government  of  the  world.  The  strongest 
objections  to  God's  providential  rule,  are  on  the  field  of  his- 
tory ;  and  in  the  history  and  progress  of  the  Christian  church, 
with  the  aims  it  has  in  view,  we  have  our  best  basis  for  a  re- 
ply to  the  objections.  Without  the  light  of  Christianity,  hu- 
man history  is  dark  indeed,  and  hardly  intelligible  to  any 
serious  mind.  And  though  difliculties  may  be  left  even  from 
the  Christian  point  of  view,  yet  the  most  perplexing  questions 


CHURCH    HISTORY    A    HISTORY    OF    DOCTRINES.  75 

are  solved,  and  solved  not  in  the  M'ay  of  bare  possibility  and 
speculation,  bnt  on  the  ground  of  actual  facts,  ou  the  basis  of 
a  revealed  economy,  which  is  full  of  blessings  and  of  grace 
for  tlie  human  race.  This  gives  us  points  that  "  throb  with 
light,"  in  the  midst  of  all  the  darkness.  God's  government 
of  the  world  is  thus  seen  to  vindicate  itself.  As  the  scientitic 
study  of  nature  has  given  the  best  reply  to  the  well-known 
Lucretian  objection,  "stat  tanta  praedita  culpa,"  so  the  thor- 
ough study  of  history  will  reveal  to  us  a  wisdom  in  the  divine 
dealings,  which  is  the  best  answer  to  inconsiderate  objections 
to  the  moral  government  of  God.  But  we  cannot  dwell  upon 
this  topic  further,  because  for  our  present  objects  it  is  more 
needful  to  consider  a  third  aspect  under  which  the  value  of 
church  history  may  be  considered. 

3.  And  that  is,  its  general  doctrinal  bearings.  Church  his- 
tory comprises  the  history  of  doctrines.  This  is  its  more  im- 
portant portion.  It  gives  us  the  real  internal  life  of  the 
church.  And  it  is  a  field  more  fruitful  in  interest  than  is 
almost  any  other  portion  of  this  history.  Here  we  have  that 
greatest  of  controversies,  between  philosophy  and  faith,  of 
which  all  external  conflicts  are  but  the  symbol.  Here  we 
are  taught  how  Christianity  approves  itself  as  the  highest 
reason.     Here,  too,  we  see  that 

"  Truth  crushed  to  earth  shall  rise  again, 
The  eternal  years  of  God  are  hers  ; 
But  Error,  wounded,  writhes  with  pain, 
And  dies  among  his  worshippers." 

It  is  animating  to  follow  this  i-ecord,  and  note  the  stadia  of 
,  that  grand  process  through  which  the  church  has  been  passing, 
in  order  to  come  to  a  full  comprehension  of  God's  revealed 
will,  and  to  reconcile  the  verities  of  Christianity  with  all 
other  known  truth.  Each  age  has  here  had  its  special  office. 
It  is  as  if  no  one  period  had  been  able  to  grasp  the  full  mean- 
ing of  revelation  ;  the  first  age  was  devoted  to  the  Incarna- 
tion and  the  Trinity ;  the  next  to  sin  and  grace ;  the  next 
more  especially  to  the  polity  and  the  sacraments ;  the  age  of 


76  SCIENCE    OF    CHUECH    HISTORY. 

scliolasticism  to  a  systematizing  of  the  previous  labors.  The 
Reformation  brought  out  into  bold  relief  the  doctrine  of  jus- 
tification, and  the  true  idea  of  the  church,  while  it  delivered 
the  church  from  an  usurped  ecclesiastical  authority,  and  it 
produced  the  laigest  body  of  symbols  and  confessions.  Then 
came  the  period  of  the  conflict  of  Christianity  at  all  points, 
even  to  its  foundations,  with  criticisms  and  philosophy,  its 
contests  with  all  the  forms  of  infidelity,  and  the  great  attempt 
in  the  midst  of  which  we  now  stand — to  reconcile  the  whole 
of  Christianity  with  all  the  thoughts  and  interests  of  the  race, 
to  bring  all  our  knowledge  of  human  and  divine  things  into 
one  self-consistent  system. 

And  whoever  reads  this  inspiring  record  in  a  right  spirit, 
will  find  it  to  have  a  two  fold  value  ;  it  guards  against  her- 
esy, and  it  confirms  the  essential  truths  of  Christianity. 

It  is  a  preservative  against  error,  according  to  the  maxim, 
"  forewarned,  forearmed."  Many  an  ol)jection  made  against 
what  are  called  the  formulas  of  doctrine,  would  vanish,  if  the 
history  of  those  formulas  were  known.  And,  in  fact,  they 
cannot  be  thoroughly  understood  excepting  in  the  light  of 
their  history,  which  tells  us  the  reason  for  almost  every  word 
in  the  chief  definitions.  The  formula  then  becomes  full  of 
life.  If  it  is  seen  how  Arius,  and  Pelagius,  and  Sabellius, 
were  conquered,  we  shall  give  less  heed  to  the  attenuated 
repetition  of  their  thrice  slain  objections.  It  is  a  wise  saying, 
"  that  only  he  who  is  able  to  trace  an  error  to  its  roots,  can 
tear  it  up  by  the  roots."  If  we  get  at  the  roots,  we  need  not 
spend  so  much  time  on  the  new  sprouts  of  heresy.  We  shall 
thus  be  less  apt  to  quake  at  every  objection  to  the  truth,  and 
we  shall  have  more  of  that  calmness  which  is  one  prognostic 
of  victory. 

Of  equal  service  is  the  history  of  doctrines,  in  confirming 
us  in  the  truth.  If,  in  the  year  138i,  "Wyckliffe  could  write, 
"  Truly  aware  I  am,  that  the  doctrine  of  the  gospel,  may,  for 
a  season,  be  trampled  under  foot,  and  even  suppressed  by  the 
threatenings  of  Antichrist,  but  equally  sure  I  am  that  it 
shall  never  be  extinguished,  for  it   is  the  recording  of  the 


CHURCH    HISTORY    AND    PRESENT    CONTROVERSY.  77 

truth  itse]f,"  much  more  may  we  say  tin's  now,  with  a  faitli 
coiitirmed  by  the  history  of  almost  five  subsequent  centuries. 
There  have  been,  and  there  will  be  conflicts  ;  but  those  truths 
which  are  both  old  and  new,  which  are  always  and  never  old, 
which  are  always  and  never  new,  have  still  maintained  their 
vantage  ground.  Those  very  truths,  against  which  human 
reason  has  brought  the  subtlest  objections,  the  Incarnation, 
the  Trinity,  Atonement,  Justification  and  Regeneration, 
those  very  truths,  which  to  the  superficial  view  seem  contrary 
to  reason,  because  they  are  above  mere  natural  reason, 
are  the  ones  which  have  received  the  strono:est  addi- 
tional  confirmation,  in  the  progress  of  doctrinal  discussion, 
which  have  approved  themselves  as  fundamental  in  the 
Christian  system.  Thus,  for  example,  the  doctrine  respect- 
ing the  Person  of  our  Lord,  the  union  of  the  human  and 
divine  natures  in  his  sacred  person,  that  central  doctrine  of 
Christianity,  has  been  assailed  by  every  imaginable  objection  ; 
some  have  denied  his  divinity,  at  the  expense  of  his  humanity  ; 
others,  his  humanity  at  the  expense  of  his  divinity  ;  others 
still,  have  feigned  a  nature  neither  human  nor  divine  ;  some 
have  confounded  the  natures ;  others  have  divided  the  person  ; 
evei-y  form  of  philosophy,  in  each  successive  age,  has  done 
battle  against  this  most  vital  and  most  comprehensive  truth — 
and  almost  every  form  of  philosophy  has  come  at  last  to  pay 
it  obeisance.  It  has  maintained  its  hold,  so  that  in  every  cen- 
tury men  have  bowed  at  the  name  of  Jesus,  with  such  love 
and  faith,  as  none  but  a  suffering  God-man  could  inspire. 
And  the  history  of  this  truth  reveals  to  us  its  sublimity  and 
authority,  and  shows  us  the  gi*eat  practical  end  to  be  gained 
by  a  review  of  past  controversy,  and  that  is,  in  the  mutations 
of  human  opinions  to  see  the  immutability  and  progress  of 
divine  truth. 

4.  This  study  of  church  history  is  of  importance,  not  only 
in  these  general  doctrinal  aspects,  but  also,  in  the  fourth 
place,  in  its  application  to  present  controversy. 

We  live  in  an  age  and  in  a  country  of  sects  and  controver- 
sies, and  this  is  not  so  bad  as  an  age  of  indifference  or  of 


78  SCIENCE    OF    CHURCH    HISTORY. 

spiritual  bondage.  Sects  are  better  than  coei-cion,  and  con- 
troversy than  thonglitlessness. 

But  this  variety  of  opinions  imposes  the  necessity  of  a 
broader  theological  culture,  so  that  we  may  know  tlie 
grounds  of  difference  and  the  points  of  agreement.  The 
study  of  the  history  of  opinions  contributes  to  this. 

All  present  controversy  has  a  tendency  to  sharjien  and 
limit  the  vision  ;  the  study  of  history  has  a  tendency  "  to 
inbreed  M^ithin  us,"  what  Milton  calls,  "that  generous  and 
Christianly  reverence  one  of  another,  which  is  the  very 
nurse  and  guardian  of  Christian  charity."  It  gives  a  position 
above  tlie  controversy  w^hich  is  of  inestimable  value,  especially 
to  him  who  is  involved  in  the  controvei-sy.  Thus  can  we  best 
distinguish  between  the  essential  and  the  contingent. 

All  intense  doctrinal  discussion  has,  likewise,  a  tendency  to 
run  back  upon  metapliysical  distinctions,  and  to  make  these 
appear  of  too  great  relative  importance  ;  and  as  these  dis- 
tinctions are  not  so  readily  apj)reheiided  by  the  popular 
mind,  there  is  a  strong  disposition  on  the  part  of  the  polemic, 
for  the  sake  of  popular  effect,  really  to  misinterpret  his  oppo- 
nent, and  to  say  that  he  denies  the  whole  of  a  truth,  when  he 
onl}'  objects  to  some  one  of  the  forms  in  whicli  it  may  be 
stated.  And  this,  too,  in  forgetfulness  of  the  fact  that 
phraseology,  which  to  the  popular  mind  is  definite,  has  be- 
come indefinite  among  theoloo-ians  through  the  stress  of  con- 
troversy.  Tlie  study  of  doctrinal  history  does  not  make  any 
one  less  scrupulous  in  the  use  of  terms,  but  rather  more  so ; 
and  it  also  shows  the  value  of  nice  distinctions,  and  that  is, 
that  they  are  rather  scientific  than  practical ;  and  it  makes 
one  averse  to  the  petty  and  easy  art  of  the  nnscrnpulous 
polemic,  who  appeals  to  popular  prejudice  to  sustain  a  cause 
which  he  is  in  danger  of  losing  in  argument.  lie,  who 
knows  the  full  history  of  controversy,  will  be  as  little  disposed 
as  any  one,  to  tamper  with  the  truth  for  the  sake  of  novelty ; 
he  will  see  the  wisdom  of  the  forms  in  which  it  is  embodied ; 
but  he  ought  also  to  acquire  such  breadth  of  vision,  that  he 
will  not  unnecessarily  exalt  minor  points  of  difference,  even  for 


CHURCH    HISTORY    AND    THE    CONFLICT    WITH    ROME.  79 

the  sake  of  displaying  his  own  orthodoxy.  It  is  easy  to  gain 
the  notoriety  of  a  polemic — little  knowledge  is  needed  to 
that ;  it  is  easy  to  exalt  the  difference  between  Old  School 
and  New,  between  Presbyterians  and  Congregational ists  ;  but 
it  is  wiser  and  better  to  work  together  for  our  common  good, 
and  against  our  common  foes.  A  state  of  things  in  our 
American  churches,  which  should  lead  to  more  serious  col- 
lisions between  those  so  substantially  at  one  as  are  Congrega- 
tionalists  and  Presbyterians,  which  should  annul  that  old 
Christian  freedom  and  brotherhood,  which  made  transitions 
from  one  to  the  other  easy  and  unnoticed,  could  not  be  too 
much  deplored.  Far  distant  be  the  time,  when  it  can  be 
said,  that  he  who  would  go  from  hence  thither  cannot,  neither 
ought  any  man  to  come  hither  from  thence. 

But  the  controversies  among  Protestants  are  not  those  in 
which  church  history  has  the  most  solid  and  needed  lessons 
to  convey.  There  is  the  still  more  important  and  ui-gent  con- 
troversy between  the  Protestant  and  tlie  Roman  Catholic 
communions.  While  the  political  power  of  Pome  is  dying 
out  at  the  lieart,  its  spiritual  claims  are  exalted  at  the  extrem- 
ities. And  from  the  very  nature  of  the  Pomish  polity,  this 
spiritual  includes  a  political  claim,  wherever  it  can  be  en- 
forced. Its  dignitaries  may  praise  republicanism,  and  tolera- 
tion, and  rights  of  conscience,  and  the  social  comj^act,  in  re- 
publican cathedrals  and  in  the  halls  of  Congress  ;  but,  behind 
the  rights  of  man  are  the  rights  of  the  church,  the  toleration 
they  invoke  is  for  tliem  and  not  for  mankind,  the  inviolable 
conscience  is  the  Roman  Catholic  conscience  ;  and,  above  all 
social  compacts,  is  a  sovereign  and  infallible  church.  They 
catch  the  popular  ear  by  words,  which,  when  interpreted  in 
the  light  of  their  full  system,  are  abhorrent  to  the  popular 
ear.  It  may  be,  that  they  will  yet  be  plagued  by  their  own 
inventions,  and  that  what  is  policy  in  the  leaders  may  become 
conviction  in  the  followers. 

And  this  church  invites  us  to  a  conflict,  which  cannot  long 
be  put  off.  It  throws  down  the  gauntlet,  and  boasts  of  our 
decline,  perverting  the  facts  of  modern  history,  as  it  forged 


80  SCIENCE    OF    CHURCH    HISTORY. 

donations  and  decretals  of  old.  And  there  is  need  among 
our  ministry  of  a  more  thorough  study  of  its  real  character, 
for  the  flowing  lines  by  which  we  now  vaguely  define  its  dif- 
ferences from  us,  are  not  the  real  lines  on  which  the  battle  is 
to  be  fouglit.  Kivers  are  said  to  be  good  for  the  boundaries 
of  peaceful  States,  but  bad  for  the  defence  of  armies.  If  we 
would  learn  the  real  power  and  strategy  of  Home  we  must 
away  from  the  rivers,  to  its  hills  and  encampments. 

The  streijgth  of  Rome  is  in  its  completeness  and  consistency 
as  an  organic  system.  The  Roman  Catholic  system  is  the 
most  comprehensive,  subtle,  self-consistent,  flexible  and  inflexi- 
ble polity,  which  the  mind  of  man  ever  wrought  out  for  pur- 
poses of  spiritual  and  temporal  authority.  Its  parts  are  knit 
together.  Doctrines,  polity  and  rites — they  are  all  members  of 
one  body,  an  organized,  aggressive  and  zealous  spiritual  hierar- 
chy, whose  claims  run  through  all  the  relations  of  life,  trespass 
upon  the  sanctity  of  the  family,  unbind  the  oaths  of  political 
allegiance,  and  know  no  human  or  civil  rights,  which  are  not 
subordinate.  From  the  cradle  to  the  grave  it  accompanies 
each  of  its  members  with  its  mystical  sacraments.  It  changes 
its  astute  policy  at  each  emergency  ;  as  has  been  said,  "  it 
neutralized  Aristotelianism  by  scholasticism,  printing  by  art, 
the  Albigenses  by  the  Franciscan  order,  and  a  Luther  by  a 
Loyola."  It  is  wise  even  to  wiliness,  and  when  it  seems  to 
succumb,  it  is  just  preparing  to  strike.  It  has  something  of 
that  insatiable  variety  which  Cicero  attributes  to  nature,  and 
also  of  that  complex  order,  which  modern  science  finds  every- 
M'hei-e  in  nature.  It  can  afford  to  be  inconsistent  for  a  mo- 
ment, that  it  may  be  consistent  in  the  end  ;  it  can  outbid  any 
other  system  with  both  the  populace  and  the  politician.  It 
is  by  turns  servile  and  despotic.  And  its  systematic  power  is 
rivalled  only  by  its  zeal,  and  its  zeal  is  not  greater  than  is  its 
adaptedness  to  almost  all  moods  and  classes  of  mind.  It  awes 
by  its  pc)wer  those  whom  it  cannot  enchant  by  its  flatteries  ; 
it  is  harmless  to  the  submissive,  meek  to  the  inquiring,  and 
intolerant  to  every  adversary.  It  appeals  to  all  the  senses  in 
its  varied  rites ;  it  charms  the  understanding  by  the  consist- 


THE    STRENGTH    OF    THE   KOMISH    SYSTEM.  81 

ency  of  its  system,  and  it  subdues  reason  itself  by  its  claims 
to  infallibility.  It  is  seductive  to  the  barbarian,  and  alluring 
to  the  imaginative  ;  its  later  converts  have  been  among  culti- 
vated minds,  vi^ho  have  lost  sympathy  with  human  rights,  and 
despaired  of  reason,  and  were  glad  to  submit  to  a  venerable 
authority,  which  was  strong  througli  its  traditions,  and  unfal- 
tering in  its  aspirations.  And  all  its  policy  and  efforts  look 
forwai'd  to  one  great  end,  that  of  a  spiritual  domination, 
embracing  all  the  great  temporal  interests  ;  the  supremacy 
of  a  single  see,  having  its  seat  in  that  ancient,  venerable  Rome, 
which,  having  conquered  the  whole  of  the  old  world,  and  been 
supreme  in  mediaeval  times,  would  also  give  the  law  to  the 
whole  modern  world,  and  make  of  Home  the  centre  of  the 
earth. 

While  the  strength  of  the  Roman  Catholic  system  is  thus  to 
be  found  in  its  consistency,  and  completeness  and  pliancy  as 
an  organized  whole,  the  arguments  in  its  favor,  and  its  means 
of  defence  against  assault  are  chiefly  on  historical  grounds. 
From  the  nature  of  the  case,  its  claims  to  unity,  infallibility 
and  supremacy,  stand  or  fall  with  its  tradition.  This  open 
foe  of  all  our  Protestantism,  and  this  covert  foe  of  all  our 
civil  rights  can  be  thoroughly  undermined  only  on  the  historic 
field.  The  wisdom  of  the  Reformers  was  seen  as  conspicu- 
ously in  the  production  of  the  Magdeburg  Centuries,  as  in 
any  other  of  their  works,  and  the  Annales  of  Bai'onius,  with 
all  its  continuations,  have  not  filled  up  the  breaches  which 
were  then  made  in  the  Roman  bulwarks.  A  superficial  study 
of  history  may  be  favorable  to  the  Papacy,  but  a  thorough 
exploration  reveals  the  gaps  in  its  assumed  successions,  de- 
stroys the  figments  of  its  traditions,  shows  the  arts  by  which 
it  came  to  power,  and  the  gradual  rise  of  its  corruptions  until 
Christ  was  hidden,  and  Christianity  externalized  and  mate- 
rialized, and  the  whole  ecclesiastical  system  wrought  out 
under  Pelagian  views  of  human  nature  and  carnal  views  of 
Christ's  spiritual  kingdom.  And  the  modern  portion  of  that 
history  exhibits  the  judgment  that  has  been  passed  upon  this 
usui-ping  hierarchy.  Even  if,  on  historical  grounds,  Rome 
6 


82  SCIENCE    OF    CHURCH    HISTOKY. 

might  prove  itself  fit  for  the  middle  ages,  on  the  same 
grounds  it  can  be  proved  nnfit  for  the  modern  world,,  "What 
might  have  been  catholic  in  mediaeval  times,  is  sectarian  in 
modern  times.  Its  history  since  the  Reformation  contains 
an  argument  against  it  as  strong  as  is  that  derived  from  the 
record  of  the  growth  of  its  previous  corruptions.  Under  the 
ardor  of  the  attack,  it  did  indeed  at  first  exhibit  the  revival 
of  missionary  zeal ;  but  its  Eastern  missions  have  died  away, 
and  its  churches  in  South  America  are  among  the  most  cor- 
rupt forms  of  Christianity,  In  Europe,  its  intolerance  has 
provoked  all  the  great  religious  wars ;  it  has  armed  the  Inqui- 
sition with  new  powers ;  it  has  published  the  decrees  of 
Trent ;  and  it  has  produced,  denounced  and  welcomed  back 
the  society  of  the  Jesuits.  The  decrees  of  Trent  and  the 
Jesuits  are  the  great  products  of  Rome  since  the  Reformation  ; 
and  in  these  decrees  it  has  petrified  itself  in  its  doctrinal  cor- 
ruptions, and  in  the  Society  of  Jesus  we  have  a  body,  all  whose 
spirit  does  violence  to  the  sacred  name  it  bears.  In  our  own 
country  we  might  have  more  hope  of  its  reform,  were  it  not 
that  its  leading  advocates  are  so  thoroughly  hostile  to  our 
general  spirit  as  a  people,  and  so  ultra-montane  in  all  their 
tendencies. 

And  it  is  also  worthy  of  remark,  that  in  all  the  great  con- 
tests of  Christianity  with  its  modern  foes,  Rome  has  kept  in 
the  background.  Once  it  led.  But  from  the  very  nature  of 
its  system,  it  is  not  able  to  meet  manfully  the  questions  be- 
tween science  and  revelation,  between  philosophy  and  faith, 
between  the  past  and  the  present.  The  honor  of  these  con- 
flicts has  been  given  to  Protestantism;  all  the  controversies 
between  materialism  and  pantheism  on  the  one  side,  and 
Christianity  on  the  other,  have  been  conducted  under  Prot- 
estant auspices.  Rome  does  not  know  how  to  reconcile 
Christianity  with  popular  rights,  nor  reason  with  revelation. 
It  cannot  do  this  on  the  basis  of  its  system.  It  has  said  some- 
thing about  these  things,  but  it  has  not  discussed  them.  It 
can  enforce  duties,  but  it  cannot  recognize  rights.  It  does 
not  know  man  as  man.     Nor  does  it  know,  nor  is  it  able  to 


THE   PROPHETIC    OFFICE    OF    CHURCH    HISTORY.  83 

satisfy  tlie  highest  spiritual  wants  of  man.  It  is  not  fitted  to 
grapple  with  the  great  social  problems  of  modern  life.  And 
while  the  whole  of  modern  society  is  stirred  to  its  depths  by 
these  great  questions,  which  must  be  met  and  answered,  this 
venerable  hierarchy,  in  its  gi-eat  councils,  is  busying  itself 
most  intensely  with  that  most  important  theological  inquiry, 
upon  whi(;h  so  much  can  be  said  and  so  little  known — the 
immaculate  conception  of  the  virgin. 

A  review  of  the  whole  history  of  the  Roman  Catholic 
Church  is  thus  one  of  the  best  means  for  refuting  its  claims, 
showing  us  that  what  it  attempts  in  theory  never  has  been 
realized  in  fact ;  that  if,  in  its  grandeur,  it  be  like  the  vener- 
able cathedrals  in  which  its  service  is  chanted,  it  is  also  like 
the  greatest  of  these  cathedrals  in  another  resjiect,  and  that 
is,  it  has  never  been  completed, — as  also  in  another  point,  that 
howevei"  grand  they  are,  they  are  not  lai'ge  enough  to  hold, 
nor  strong  enough  to  bind  that  spiritual  Christianity,  which 
rests  in  Christ  and  not  in  the  church,  in  justification  and  not 
in  works,  and  which  is  ever  favorable  to  human  reason  and  to 
human  rights. 

5.  That  same  history  of  the  church,  which  may  tlius  be  of 
use  in  respect  to  present  controversy,  is  also  of  value  in  pre- 
paring us  for  the  future.  It  has  a  prophetic  office.  It  bids 
us  look  forward  to  the  progress  of  the  church,  and  to  the  unity 
of  the  church. 

"  It  is  a  maxim  in  the  militai-y  art,"  once  said  Napoleon, 
"  that  the  army  which  remains  in  its  entrenchments  is  beaten," 
and  eminently  does  this  hold  true  of  the  moral  conflicts  of  the 
race.  And  as  we  read  the  record  of  the  past  victories  of  the 
church,  we  realize  more  fully  its  missionary  character,  and 
acquire  greater  confidence  in  the  reality  of  the  scriptural 
promise  that  the  kingdoms  of  this  world  shall  become  the 
kingdom  of  our  Lord  and  of  his  Christ. 

And  for  the  future  unity  of  the  church,  as  well  as  for  its 
missionary  expansion,  the  stud}^  of  church  history  may  serve 
to  prepare  us. 

If  any  lesson  is  written  broad  and  deep  upon  the  whole 


84  SCIENCE    OF    CHUKCH    HISTORY. 

course  of  Christ's  militant  church,  it  is  this,  that  4h€-aiiuty  of 
the  church  is  to  be  the  cojigummation  of  the  church,._anii  not 
the  ineairTof  its  consummation.  This  unity  is  to  be  attained 
by  means  of  its  inward  life,  and  not  by  means  of  its  outward 
forms.  External  unity  is  not  Christian  union.  Nothing  is 
more  conspicuous  in  Christian  history,  than  the  disdain  with 
which  external  forms  and  successions  have  been  treated  when 
they  cramped  the  spiritual  power  and  progress  of  the  Chris- 
tian church.  Nor  is  such  unity  to  be  found  in  a  sacrifice  of 
faith  to  feeling,  though  without  the  feeling  it  cannot  be  re- 
alized. There  must  indeed  be  more  of  Christian  charity,  and 
a  more  whole-souled  faith,  living  in  the  great  spiritual  reali- 
ties of  God's  kingdom  in  Christ.  But  there  must  also  be — 
and  here  is  where  the  study  of  the  doctrinal  history  of  the 
church  has  its  important  bearings — a  thorough  and  compre- 
hensive review  of  the  whole  course  of  Christian  theology,  so 
that  each  sect  and  each  doctrine  may  be  judged  in  the  light 
of  the  great  central  truths  of  the  Christian  system,  and  receive 
its  true  relative  position.  Put  the  church  question,  and  the 
sacramental  question,  and  the  inquiries  concerning  divine 
sovereignty  and  free  agency  ;  put  the  doctrines  of  atonement, 
and  justification,  and  regeneration,  in  their  real  relations  to 
Christ  the  living  Head ;  exalt  his  person  and  work,  and  his 
intimate  relations  to  believers;  make  him  the  centre  of  our 
systems,  as  he  is  of  our  faith,  as  he  is  of  the  divine  revelation, 
as  he  is  of  the  history  of  the  church,  as  he  is  of  the  whole 
history  of  our  fallen  race,  as  he  is  of  the  whole  kingdom  of 
God  in  time  and  in  eternity,  and  we  are  advancing  farthest 
and  fastest  towards  that  unity  of  the  church  which  is  to  be  its 
hallowed  consummation.  And  that  jie  is  this  centre,  the 
whole  history  of^his^church,  next  to  theScrlptures,  gives  the 
mosFconvmcing  evidence. 

In  the  spirit  in  which  I  liave  now  attempted  to  set  forth 
the  nature  and  the  worth  of  the  science  of  Church  History, 
it  will  be  my  aim  to  teach  it,  as  the  Lord  may  give  me 
strength,  in  training  in  this  school  of  the  prophets  such  a  min- 


THE    MINISTKY    WE    NEED.  85 

istry  tis  our  American  churches  now  need.  If  ever  churches 
needed  a  thoroughly  trained  ministry,  it  is  our  American 
churches  in  their  present  position  and  conflicts,  [f  all  tlie 
wisdom  and  fulness  of  the  Christian  system  ever  needed  to 
be  poured  into  the  very  heart  of  any  society,  ours  is  that 
society, — so  united  in  a  few  great  politi(;al  and  religious  con- 
victions, and  so  divided  on  all  other  points.  Though  the 
mariner  has  a  richly-freighted  bark,  and  all  the  powers  of 
steam,  and  even  the  terrestrial  magnet,  he  needs  more  than 
ever  the  stars  and  the  sun,  and  the  best  instruments  of  science 
to  tell  him  where  he  is.  No  theological  education  can  be 
too  thorough  for  our  ministry,  which  does  not  interfere  with 
the  higher  moral  and  spiritual  qualifications  for  the  ministe- 
rial work.  And  the  most  thorough  intellectual  discipline 
does  not  do  this,  though  an  inferior  culture  may.  For  the 
most  sublime  truths  of  the  Christian  system  are  those  which 
have  the  greatest  practical  efficiency  ;  and  tlie  most  compre- 
hensive study  of  tliese  truths  will  enable  the  preacher  to  apply 
them  most  directly  and  wisely  to  the  heart  and  life,  and  such 
stud}'  alone  can  qualify  him  to  answer  all  the  objections  wliich 
he  must  encounter.  Only  he  who  knows  the  times  in  which 
he  lives,^can  act  upon  the  times;  and^nlj^e  who  has  studied 
the  past,  can  know  the  present,  and  act  wisely  for  the 
future. 

We  need  a  ministry  trained  for  conflict  and  discussion,  and 
trained  through  investigation  and  discussion  ;  for  on  the  field 
of  open  controversy  all  the  great  questions  which  come  thick 
and  fast  upon  us  are  to  be  adjusted.  "VVe  need  a  ministry  qual- 
ified to  refute  error  by  showing  its  grounds,  and  to  advance 
truth  by  displaying  its  synnnetry ;  which  can  meet  argument 
by  argument,  a  vain  philosophy  by  a  higher  wisdom,  novel 
speculations  by  showing  either  that  they  are  too  novel  or  too 
antiquated,  pretended  ecclesiastical  claims  by  pointing  to  the 
gaps  in  the  succession,  and  the  assumptions  of  an  infallible 
church  by  the  documents  that  prove  its  fallibility.  "VVe  need 
a  ministry  which  shall  be  conservative  without  bigotry,  and 
progressive  without  lawlessness;  which  shall  neither  nail  the 


86  SCIENCE    OF    CHURCH    HISTORY. 

Iff 

-\^    ■> 

conscious  needle  to  tlie  north,  nor  strive  to  walk  withont  the 
needle's  guidance ;  which  shall  hold  the  truth  in  its  fulness, 
and  the  truth  in  its  simplicity,  and  the  truth  in  its  symmetry, 
•and  the  truth  in  its  power;  which  shall  sympathize  with  all 
human  wants  and  woes,  and  which  above  all  temporal  wants 
shall  labor  for  the  spiritual  welfare  of  immortal  souls ;  which 
shall  be  ready  to  live  and  to  die  for  the  church  as  the  body 
of  Christ,  and  for  Christ  as  tlie  Head  of  the  church,  and  for 
all  men  for  the  sake  of  Christ  and  his  kingdom. 

We  need  a  ministry  filled  with  the  powers  of  the  world  to 
come ;  living  in  the  grand  realities  of  God's  spiritual  king- 
dom, and  really  believing  that  it  is  the  Lord's ;  that  he  hath 
not  forsaken  it,  that  he  will  not  forget  it ;  tliat  though  a  woman 
may  forget  her  sucking  child,  that  she  should  not  have  com- 
passion on  the  son  of  her  womb,  yet  God  will  not  forget  his 
Zion.  Behold,  he  says,  1  have  graven  it  upon  the  palms  of 
my  hands,  and  thy  walls  are  continuall}'  before  me.  Fear 
not,  for  I  am  with  thee.  I  will  bring  thy  seed  frora  the 
East,  and  gather  thee  from  the  West ;  I  will  say  to  the  North 
give  up,  and  to  the  South  keep  not  back;  bring  my  sons  from 
far,  and  my  daughters  from  the  ends  of  the  earth. 


THE  REFORMED  CHURCHES  OF  EUROPE  AND  AMERICA 


IN  KELATION  TO 


GENERAL   CHURCH  HISTORY.* 


The  two  well-known  sayings,  that  "  history  is  philosophy 
teaching  by  example,"  and  that  "  the  historian  is  a  prophet 
with  his  face  turned  backwards,"  suggest  important  lessons 
as  to  the  value  of  history  and  the  functions  of  the  historian. 
For  history  contains  a  philosophy,  and  the  historian  alone 
has  all  the  data  of  rational  prophecy.  Only  he  who  knows 
what  has  been,  can  understand  what  is,  or  can  anticipate 
what  is  to  be.  If  we  cut  ourselves  off  from  the  past  we  shall 
be  disowned  in  the  future.  The  facts  of  history  are  one  of 
the  surest  tests  of  our  speculations  about  the  final  destiny  of 
the  human  race, 

A  sense  of  the  dignity  of  history,  and  the  consciousness  of 
an  historic  destiny,  are  impressed  upon  all  great  nations, 
upon  all  great  personages.  The  Greeks  and  the  youtliful 
Alexander,  the  Romans  and  the  imperial  Caesar,  the  Papacy 
and  the  grasping  Ilildebrand,  the  Franks  and  the  lordly 
Charlemagne,  the  Germans  and  Luther  strong  in  faith,  the 
French  and  Napoleon  strong  in  will,  the  English  with  the 
sagacious  Pitt,  and  our  own  land  favored  with  the  wise 
"Washington,  have  all  felt  the  ardor  of  this  historic  inspira- 
tion and  have  changed  the  face  of  the  earth.     And  those 

*  An  address  delivered  by  request  of  the  Presbyterian  Historical  Society, 
before  the  General  As^sembly  at  St.  Louis,  Mo.,  Monday  evening,  May  21, 
1855. 


88  KEFOKMED    CHURCHES    OF   EUEOPE    AND    AMEKICA. 

who  follow  the  march  of  these  nations  and  study  the  biogra- 
phies of  such  men,  tracking  them  consecutively  down  tlie 
long  evolution  of  historic  time,  must  be  led  to  the  ennobling 
conviction,  that  history  has  its  rational  as  well  as  personal 
aspects,  its  divine  plan,  disclosed  while  the  warp  and  woof 
are  woven  together  b}'  the  flying  shuttle  of  time. 

The  fluctuations  seem  human,  but  the  tide  is  made  by 
celestial  influences.  One  advancing  plan  pervades  all;  as 
has  been  nobly  said  by  England's  present  laureate : 

"  Yet  I  doubt  not  thro'  the  ages  one  increasing  purpose  runs, 
And  the  thoughts  of  men  are  widened  with  the  process  of  the  suns  ; 
Not  in  vain  the  distance  beacons  ;  forward,  forward,  let  us  range. 
Let  the  great  world  spin  forever  down  the  ringing  grooves  of  change." 

Even  the  genealogy  of  the  historic  muse,  in  the  ingenious 
and  graceful  fable  of  the  old  Greek  mythology,  shows  some 
sense  of  this  commingling  of  divine  and  human  elements  in 
history.  Clio,  like  her  sisters,  those  ideal  representatives  of 
the  various  arts  and  sciences,  is  the  progeny  of  Mnemosyne, 
the  goddess  of  memory,  and  of  Apollo,  the  god  of  wisdom. 
This  signifies  that  all  the  arts  have  a  divine  wisdom  for  their 
father,  and  are  under  memory's  fostering  care  ;  for  without 
memory  the  sciences  would  have  no  continuous  and  accu- 
mulative being,  and  without  a  divine  impulse  they  would 
have  no  inner  life.  And  Mnemosyne  herself  is  the  daughter 
of  Uranus  and  Gaia,  of  the  heavens  and  earth  ;  it  is  her  oflice 
to  retain  and  transmit  what  may  be  known  of  the  one  or  the 
other.  Born  of  such  a  parentage,  Clio  is  depicted  in  a  sit- 
ting posture,  as  befits  her  calm  office,  displaying  an  unrolled 
scroll,  and  pointing  to  an  open  chest  filled  full  with  parch- 
ments. These  are  her  treasures,  the  perpetual  memorial  of 
the  divine  and  human  acts,  which  make  up  the  record  of 
history. 

The  order  and  end  of  history  are  of  divine  origination,  the 
chief  instruments  and  agencies  are  human.  The  composei* 
does  not  make  the  laws  of  music,  he  works  in  obedience  to 
them ;  nor  do  men  make  the  law  of  history,  or  shape  its 


HISTORY"    THE   WOEE^If    GOD.  89 


ends,  they  but  work  out  the  eternal  and  o'ermastering  plan. 
It  is  onlj'  by  an  illusion  that  men  believe  that  they  construct 
history.  History  is  the  work  of  God ;  his  greatest  work  in 
time.  Its  seemingly  isolated  and  fragmentary  events  ai*e 
parts  of  one  connected  and  ordei'ly  series,  of  which  the  divine 
providence  is  the  method,  human  welfare  the  chief  subject, 
and  the  divine  glory  the  last  chief  end. 

It  is  only  when  the  whole  of  human  history  is  thus  viewed, 
as  one  series,  one  connected  plan,  that  we  can  understand  its 
real  dignity,  or  that  it  can  claim  for  itself  a  place  among  the 
sciences.  Its  lessons  are  then  more  than  those  of  mere  moral 
examples  for  our  imitation  ;  they  are  the  lessons  of  a  divine 
wisdom,  they  instruct  us  in  the  weightiest  problems  of  human 
destiny.  History  as  a  mere  chronicle  of  facts  has  indeed  its 
value ;  as  the  biography  of  individuals,  it  has  its  charms,  its 
warnings  and  its  inspirations  ;  as  the  biography  of  nations,  it 
is  an  earnest  and  serene  moral  teacher,  discoursing  ever  of 
justice,  more  true  and  wonderf  nl  than  any  drama  ;  but  history, 
as  the  biography  of  humanity,  binding  together  all  the  empires 
and  races  that  have  peopled  the  earth,  in  one  unfolding  plan, 
reaching  already  through  six  thousand  years  of  time,  centering 
in  one  kingdom,  which  began  in  the  beginning  to  be  consum- 
mated only  at  the  end,  progressive,  conflicting,  never  subdued 
and  ever  victorious,  the  only  kingdom  which  has  survived  all 
change  and  has  the  high  augury  of  final  supremacy,  human 
history  when  thus  viewed  is  more  than  human,  it  is  divine, 
bespeaking  an  omniscient  and  omnipotent  author,  rehearsing 
his  power  and  proclaiming  his  glory.  The  course  of  nature 
has  been  called  "  the  art  of  God ;  "  the  course  of  history  is  his 
highest  art,  as  much  loftier  than  nature  as  spirit  is  better 
than  matter,  and  as  spiritual  are  superior  to  physical  ends. 

Such  is  human  history  in  its  real  and  sacred  aspects,  thus 
first  unfolded,  in  record,  promise  and  prophecy  in  the  Word  of 
God.  All  Pagan  literature  has  nothing,  in  grandeur  and  com- 
pleteness, to  be  compared  to  this  vision,  this  sublime  concep- 
tion of  the  human  race,  as  one  in  origin,  one  in  destiny,  the 
theatre  of  the  divine  work  of  redemption.      Augustine,  the 


90  REFORMED    CHURCHES    OF    EUROPE    AND    AMERICA. 

greatest  teacher  of  tlie  Latin  church,  first  felt  to  its  full  ex- 
tent the  grandeur  of  this  idea,  whicli  he  sets  forth  as  the  plan 
of  history  in  his  "  Citj  of  God,''  an  immortal  work,  composed 
in  reply  to  the  heathen  taunt  that  Christianity  had  ruined  the 
earth,  amid  the  downfall  of  the  old  Roman  empire,  and  in 
the  beginning  of  the  new  Latin  civilization.  He  daringly 
proclain)s  that  the  City  of  God,  the  home  of  the  elect,  is  to 
subdue  Rome  and  the  earth  ;  that  the  prophecies  of  Scripture 
foretell  the  fall  of  both  the  ancient  and  the  modern  Babylon.* 
Bossuet,  limited  by  his  Roman  Catholic  prejudices,  took  up 
the  same  theme.  It  was  expanded  to  still  fuller  propor- 
tions in  Jonathan  Edwards'  "  History  of  the  Work  of  Redemp- 
tion," written  in  the  beginning  of  our  new  American  civili- 
zation, and  sketching  with  masterly  outline,  though  imperfect 
in  historic  details,  the  whole  of  human  history  as  a  divine 
theodicy,  a  real  body  of  divinity,  which  is  from,  for  and  to 
God,  centering  in  the  person  of  Christ  and  the  work  of 
Redemption.  In  this  redemption,  and  here  alone,  is  to 
be  found  the  centre  of  unity  to  human  historj^;  the  race  is 
viewed  in  its  two  prime  and  fundamental  relations  to  the  first 
and  to  tlie  second  Adam,  and  all  converges  upon  the  idea  of  a 
redemption,  prepared,  purchased  and  applied,  running  through 
the  whole  of  man's  history,  to  its  consummation  in  eternity. 
This  general  idea  is  indicated  in  the  motto  to  Hase's  manual 
of  Church  History,  which  declares,  that  "  the  Lord  of  the 
times  is  God,  the  turning-point  of  the  times  is  Christ,  the  true 
spirit  of  the  times  is  the  Holy  Spirit."  The  great  Swiss  his- 
torian, John  Von  Miiller,  gives  the  results  of  his  life-long 
labors,  extracted,  he  says,  from  1733  authors  in  17,000  folio 
pages,  in  the  striking  confession,  that  "  Christ  is  the  key  to 

*  Augustine,  in  the  second  book  of  his  "  Retractationes."  (ii.  43,)  gives 
the  following  account  of  the  origin  of  this  work  : — "  Interea  Roma  Gotho- 
rum  irruptione,  agentium  sub  rege  Alarico,  atque  impetu  magnje  cladis 
eversa  est ;  cujus  eversionem  deorum  falsoruni  multorumque  cultores, 
quos  usitato  nomine  Paganos  vocamus,  in  Christianam  religionem  referre 
conantes,  solito  acerbiiis  et  amarius  Deum  verum  blasphemare  coeperunt. 
Unde  ego  exardescens  zelo  domus  Dei  adversus  corum  blasphemias,  vel 
errores,  libros  de  Civitate  Z)ej  scribere  institui." 


ALL    HISTORY    RELIGIOUS.  91 

the  history  of  the  world.  Nut  only  does  all  harmonize  with 
the  mission  of  Christ ;  all  is  subordinated  to  it."  "  When  I 
saw  this,"  he  adds,  "  it  was  to  me  as  wonderful  and  surprising 
as  the  light  which  Paul  saw  on  the  way  to  Damascus,  the  ful- 
fillment of  all  hopes,  the  completion  of  all  philosophy,  the 
key  to  all  the  apparent  contradictions  of  the  physical  and 
moral  world  ;  here  is  life  and  immortality.  I  marvel  not  at 
miracles ;  a  far  greater  miracle  has  been  reserved  for  our 
times,  the  spectacle  of  the  connection  of  all  human  events  in 
the  establishment  and  preservation  of  the  doctrine  of  Christ." 

It  is,  we  conceive,  one  of  the  most  wonderful  facts  about  the 
sacred  Scriptures,  that,  from  the  beginning,  they  have  held  up 
this  vision  of  the  kingdom  of  God  in  Christ  to  elevate  man's 
faith  and  enlarge  his  charity.  No  other  book,  not  deriving  its 
materials  from  this  source,  has  such  a  comprehensive  and  con- 
nected view  of  the  course  and  destiny  of  our  race.  Infidelity 
has  never  been  able  to  cope  with  the  argument  from  prophecy, 
which  gatliers  corroboration  with  each  revolving  century.  It 
is  pi-ecisely  the  most  daring  and  universal  of  the  inspired  pro- 
phecies which  has  been  receiving  constant  fulfillment.  This 
is  an  unexampled  wonder.  God  in  Christ,  reconciling  the 
world  unto  Himself,  is  the  burden  of  the  Bible,  and  it  is  also 
the  burden  of  history.  He  whose  mind  is  filled  with  tliis 
ennobling  idea  knows  the  soul  of  prophecy,  whicli  is  tlie  sub- 
stance also  of  history. 

All  history  is  thus  in  its  inmost  nature  religious.  It  centres 
in  the  church  of  Christ.  And  hence,  as  members  of  his 
church,  we  must  feel  a  special  attraction  towards  whatever 
concerns  the  f)ast,  the  present  or  the  future  fortunes  of  that 
church.  Its  history,  wisely  and  largely  understood,  lifts  us 
far  above  any  merely  sectarian  sympathies,  while  it  also 
deepens  our  interest  in  the  narrative  of  each  part  in  its  rela- 
tions to  the  whole.  He  who  loves  the  whole,  loves  also  each 
part,  and  cares  for  it  for  the  sake  of  the  whole.  And  the 
history  of  the  whole  church  cannot  be  known  without  the 
records  of  the  parts.  No  true  general  history  can  be  written 
unless  preceded  by  a  series  of  minute  and  local  investigations 


92  EEFOKMED    CHUECHES    OF    EUROPE    AND    AMERICA. 

It  is  the  necessity  of  historical  investigation,  that  chronicles, 
biographies  and  monographs  should  go  before  the  summary  ; 
they  give  the  data  for  the  true  inductions.  One  of  the  chief 
reasons  why  we  have  not  a  good  general  history  of  any  part 
of  Christ's  church  in  our  own  country  is,  that  we  have  so  few 
complete  local  histories ;  the  stones  have  not  yet  been  made 
for  the  arch.  The  Pi-esbyterian  churches  of  our  land  have, 
in  a  special  manner,  too  long  suffered  in  general  repute  from 
this  neglecjt.  Other  churches  have  pursued  a  wiser  policy. 
Had  our  Calvinistic  churches  a  history  at  all  to  be  compared 
with  that  of  Bancroft  for  the  United  States,  it  would  place 
us  on  our  proper  vantage  ground.  Where  portions  of  our 
history  have  been  written,  it  has  been,  alas  I  too  often  in  a 
controversial  spirit,  for  the  exigencies  of  debate,  a  spirit 
which  unconsciously  sacrifices  our  broad  characteristics  to 
some  special  peculiarities  or  party  ends.  And  hence  it  is, 
that  no  German  or  English  church  historian  has  ever  even 
begun  to  understand  the  true  position  and  character  of  the 
Reformed  Churches  of  our  land,  which  lead  the  van  in  tlie 
grand,  progressive  march  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  as  it  goes 
on  to  subdue  this  continent.  You  never  met  a  European 
who  could  comprehend  the  actual  working  of  our  church 
system,  either  in  doctrine  or  polity.  And  one  reason  is,  that 
we  have  been  so  busy  in  doijig  the  work,  that  we  have  nut 
found  time  to  make  a  book  for  his  instruction. 

The  Presbyterian  Historical  Society,  in  wliose  behalf  I 
have  the  honor  to  address  this  General  Assembly,  was  insti- 
tuted to  meet  this  need;  to  supply  the  materials  for  such  a 
history,  and  to  stimulate  the  spirit  of  historical  investigation 
through  all  the  Presbytei'ies  and  local  churches  of  our  com- 
munion. It  has  wisely  brought  together  the  representatives 
of  different  branches  of  the  great  Presbyterian  family  of  our 
land,  which  will  lead,  we  trust,  to  a  feeling  of  closer  sym- 
pathy, to  a  sense  of  community  in  great  things,  thus  lessening 
the  sharpness*  of  conflicts  in  lesser  things.  The  increased 
conviction  of  a  common  historic  basis  will  bring  us  nearer  to- 
gether.    Let  it  be  more  than  a  republic  of  letters;  let  it  in- 


WE   NEED    MORE    OF    THE    IlISTOKICAL    SPIRIT.  93 

crease  our  sense  of  brotherhood.  History  should  lift  us  above 
local  and  personal  animosities,  and  party  names.  That  liis- 
tory  which  is  above  our  feuds  is  our  truest  history.  It  should 
njake  ns  feel  that  union  is  better  than  discord,  that  the  whole 
is  more  than  the  part. 

The  influence  of  the  Presbyterian  Historical  Society  should 
be  felt  through  all  our  churches.  We  need,  as  a  people,  more 
of  the  historical  spiiit,  especially  of  the  spirit  of  church  his- 
tory. If  to  onr  youthful  energy  we  could  add  the  wisdom  of 
the  past,  we  have  a  "  combination  and  a  form  indeed  to  give 
assurance"  of  our  power.  Our  political  historians,  our  State 
Historical  Societies  have  outstripped  our  churches.  In  onr 
different  States  and  Territories  there  are  now  twenty-eight 
distinct  historical  societies,  several  of  which  have  published 
ample  and  valuable  collections.  Even  the  Territory  of  Min- 
nesota has  already  issued  four  annual  historical  reports.  Wis- 
consin and  Iowa  are  beginning  their  M'ork.  The  historical 
society  of  the  State  in  which  we  are  now  assembled,  has  a 
noble  field  to  cultivate.  Several  denominations,  the  Episcopal, 
the  Baptist  and  the  Congregational,  are  moving  in  this  matter. 
Let  them  stimulate  the  Presbyterian  churches  to  a  healthful 
rivalry.  Let  these  too  exalt,  not  unduly,  their  own  history. 
Let  them,  also,  pay  a  fitting  tribute  to  the  memory  of  their 
fathers  and  founders.  Though  we  may  not  think  it  quite 
time  to  appoint  our  historiographer  for  the  whole  church,  let 
every  Presbytery  see  to  it,  that  each  local  church  prepares  its 
own  history.  Let  old  mansions  be  ransacked  for  documents; 
let  periodicals,  newspapers  and  pamphlets  be  carefully  col- 
lected by  some  zealous  antiquary,  such  as  every  Synod  should 
have.  We  need  for  all  parts  of  the  church  more  of  such 
sketches  as  those  of  Drs.  Foote  and  Hill  ;  of  Hotchkin,  for 
Western  New  York;  of  Dr.  Davidson,  for  Kentucky  and 
Virginia ;  and  of  the  Old  Eed  Stone,  by  Dr.  James  Smith. 
Of  the  individual  churches,  too,  we  should  collect  the  authentic 
records,  extending  back  to  the  time  of  their  origination. 
Light  will  thus  be  thrown  upon  the  true  character  and  com- 
position of  these  churches  ;  as  is  exemplified  in  the  elaborate 


94  REFORMED    CHURCHES    OF    EUROPE    AND    AMERICA. 

and  able  history  of  the  First  Church  of  Newark,  by  Dr. 
Stearns  ;  in  Dr.  Murray's  account  of  the  Church  of  Elizabeth- 
town  ;  Tuttle'e,  of  Madison  ;  and  Sherwood's,  of  Bloomfield. 
Only  with  such  preparations  can  we  be  brought  to  a  full 
knowledge  of  the  facts,  from  which  we  may  deduce  the  prin- 
ciples which  have  shaped  our  history.  Neither  the  first 
schism  of  1741-1758,  nor  the  second  m-eat  schism  beo-innine: 
in  1837,  can  be  understood  without  patient  and  impartial  in- 
vestigations. The  important  history  of  the  relations  of  the 
Presbyterian  churches  to  the  other  churches  of  our  country, 
their  influence  on  us  and  ours  on  them,  is  also  as  yet  unwritten. 
The  publication  of  such  documents  as  the  Minutes  of  the 
Convention  of  Delegates  from  the  Synod  of  New  York  and 
Philadelphia,  and  from  the  Assembly  of  Connecticut,  held 
annually  from  1766  to  1775,  not  only  throws  light  on  our 
relations  to  the  New  Eugland  churches,  but  it  serves  to  bring 
out  some  of  the  hidden  causes,  not  yet  fully  appreciated, 
which  led  to  our  separation  from  the  mother  country. 

The  Presbyterian  Historical  Society  ought  also,  in  all  appro- 
priate ways,  to  facilitate  the  preparation  of  biographies  of  the 
worthies  who  have  built  up  and  honored  its  churches.  Even  of 
Makemie  there  is  no  adequate  memorial.  The  lives  of  the 
pastors  of  the  first  Presbyterian  churches  of  Philadelphia  and 
of  New  York  deserve  an  ample  record.  Witherspoon,  the 
patriot,  who  also  defended  the  claims  of  moral  philosophy 
against  a  New  England  writer  ;  Davies,  that  great  preacher  ; 
Gilbert  Tennent,  that  soul  of  fire  ;  "Wilson,  Dickinson  and 
Blair  ;  McWhorter  and  Burr  ;  Blackburn,  Mason,  Griffin  and 
Richards ;  these  are  surely  worthy  of  some  lasting  testimonials. 
Let  us  have  their  biographies  as  we  have  those  of  Rodgers,  of 
Alexander  and  of  Green.  To  the  history  of  the  Log  College 
should  be  added  that  of  Nassau  Hall  and  other  colleges. 

The  doctrinal  as  well  as  ecclesiastical  liistory  of  our  churches 
is  still  to  be  composed  :  it  is  peculiar,  and  calls  for  subtle  dis- 
tinctions as  well  as  a  catholic  spirit.  It  cannot  be  measured 
accurately  or  fully  by  any  standard  of  the  old  world.  We  need 
a  point  of  view  which  may  comprehend  Rodgers  and  Tennent, 


WAY    TO   A    COMPLETE   IIISTOEY    OF   TRESBYTERIANISM.  95 

Wilson  and  Green,  Richards  and  Alexander,  the  Westminster 
Confession  and  the  elder  Edwards.  The  expected  publication 
of  the  whole  correspondence  about  Dr.  Bellamy's  call  to  iSTew 
York,  will  doubtless  throw  light  on  that  interchange  and  conflict 
of  doctrinal  views  between  the  different  parts  of  our  country, 
which  has  served  to  give  its  special  shape  to  our  theology. 

And  wei-e  it  too  much  to  expect  that  the  different  Presby- 
terian churches  might  also  gather  together  the  collected 
writings,  so  far  as  they  can  now  be  recovered,  of  their  ablest 
divines,  and  issue  them  after  the  manner  of  the  admirable 
Parker  Society  of  England,  and  the  Wodrow  of  Scotland  ? 
And  we  should  be  doing  a  good  work  if  we  could  also  issue 
a  monthly  Bulletin,  after  the  manner  of  the  admirable  Bul- 
letin now  sent  forth,  richly  freighted,  by  the  "  Society  for  the 
History  of  French  Protestantism,"  under  the  honorary  presi- 
dency of  M.  Guizot,  now  in  its  third  year,  and  which  has 
rescued  many  a  valuable  Huguenot  document  from  oblivion. 

It  is  only  after  such  ample  preparations  and  research,  that 
we  can  expect  a  complete  history  of  Presbyterianism  for  our 
whole  country.  The  laborious  investigations  of  Dr.  Hodge, 
in  his  able,  but  incompleted  "  History,"  might  then  be  car- 
ried on  to  more  definite  conclusions,  in  which  there  would  be 
a  more  general  agreement.  A  complete  ecclesiastical  and 
doctrinal  history  of  these  churches,  if  it  did  not  prove  a  bond 
of  union,  should  at  least  promote  a  closer  fellowship  and 
sympathy. 

We  might  thus  be  doing  our  part  towards  the  preparation 
of  a  work,  more  needed  than  almost  any  other  in  church  liis- 
tory,  which  should  set  forth  the  true  character  of  the  great 
Calvinistic  or  Reformed  Churches  of  the  Reformation,  in 
their  relations  to  the  general  history  of  the  whole  Christian 
Church.  The  history  of  these  churches  still  i-emains  to  be 
adequately  written ;  the  aggressive  and  progressive  portion 
of  modern  church  history  belongs  chiefly  to  them.  They  are 
leading  on  Christianity,  both  in  doctrine  and  polity,  to  its 
greatest  and  widest  triumphs.  The  breadth  and  depth  of 
this  movement,  its  relations  to  Romanism  and  Lutheranism, 


96  KEFOEMED    CHURCHES    OF    EUROPE    AND    AMERICA. 

to  Arminianism  and  Socinianism,  to  Episcopacy  and  Inde- 
pendency ;  its  great  varieties,  with  the  same  substantial  type, 
in  the  many  and  strong  nations  where  it  found  foothold  ; 
its  alliance  with  politics  and  influence  upon  them ;  its 
combination  of  the  conservative  and  refoi'ming  elements ;  the 
energy  with  which  it  has  applied  and  is  applying  Christian 
principles  to  all  the  relations  of  life  and  society  ;  the  vigor 
with  which  it  has  developed  the  most  complete  ethics  in  con- 
nection with  the  nol)lest  divinity ;  and  the  relation  of  this 
whole  movement  to  the  final  aim  and  destiny  of  the  Christian 
Church,  present  subjects  of  high  contemplation  to  every 
thoughtful  mind. 

It  is  but  a  slight  outline  that  we  can  here  present  of 
the  characteristics  of  the  Reformed,  or  Calvinistic,  especially 
of  the  Presbyterian  Churches.  We  will  glance  at  these  traits 
as  seen  in  their  European  origin,  in  their  planting  and 
growth  in  our  own  land,  and  in  their  relation  to  the  general 
liistory  and  final  aim  of  the  Christian  Church. 

The  grandeur  of  the  majestic  Hallelujah  chorus  in  Handel's 
Oratorio,  is  said  to  be  seen  in  the  fact,  tliat  though  composed 
for  a  limited  number  of  performers,  it  swells  and  grows 
to  more  magnificent  proportions  and  effects,  as  the  voices 
and  instruments  are  multiplied  and  reduplicated,  until  it  be- 
comes a  voluminous  tide  of  enthralling  and  resistless  har- 
mony. And  so,  too,  the  grandeur  of  the  principles  of  the 
Reformed  Churches  is  attested  by  the  still  more  conspicuous 
fact,  that  they  are  as  applicable  on  a  broad,  as  they  were  on 
a  narrow  theatre,  to  nations  as  to  individuals,  to  the  present 
even  more  than  to  the  sixteenth  century.  Increase  of  years, 
of  numbers,  and  of  countries,  has  only  served  to  give  them 
expansion,  maturity,  and  energy.  The  new  w^orld  is  and  has 
proved  to  be  a  better,  because  it  is  a  broader  sphere,  for  test- 
ing, among  the  most  varied  infiuences,  the  full  efficacy  of  the 
system  of  doctrine  and  polity  with  which  Calvin  transformed 
Geneva. 

The  great  Reformation  of  the  sixteenth  century  Avas  "  the 
salvation,   because   it  was   the   restoration  of  Christianitv," 


LUX    IN   TENEBKIS,  97 

For  two  hundred  years  this  European  revolution  was  growing 
in  secrecy,  with  here  and  there  an  occasional  throe,  pre-an- 
noiincing  this  great  birth  of  time.  It  was  a  comprehensive 
political,  social,  popular,  and  intellectual,  as  well  as  a  deep 
spiritual  movement.  Even  Roman  Catholic  writers  have 
ceased  to  depict  it  as  a  merely  sudden  explosion,  and  trace 
back  its  causes  to  the  heart  of  the  middle  ages.  The  scholas- 
tic system,  that  combination  of  ecclesiastical  traditions  and 
Aristotelian  logic,  had  failed  to  give  a  satisfactory  theology. 
A  new  psychology  supplanted  the  Aristotelian  metaphysics  ; 
the  inductive  was  added  to  the  formal  logic,  making  new 
premises  in  theological  discussion.  The  Papacy,  that  real 
anti-Christian  power,  had  become  a  piersecnting  and  extor- 
tionate despotism.  The  motto  of  the  Waldenses,  "  Z?<a;  m 
tenehris^''  proved  prophetic.  From  the  heart  of  Europe 
came  up  that  solemn  invocation,  not  nnheeded  : 

Avenge,  0  Lord,  thy  slaughtered  saints,  whose  bones 
Lie  scattered  on  the  Alpine  mountains  cold  ! 

Ringing  in.  many  a  silent  hour  were  heard  by  the  attentive 
ear  the  warning  bells  of  those  godly  churches,  which  Rome 
had  vainly  tried  to  root  out,  even  as  it  is  said  that  sailors  in 
the  Caribbean  seas  still  hear  the  lingering  chime  of  the  bells 
of  a  submerged  island. 

Our  Lord  issued  forth,  as  with  a  new  resurrection,  from 
the  sepulchre  where  they  had  laid  him.  With  a  deeper 
spiritual  experience,  the  faithful  came  again  directly  to  the 
Saviour.  The  "formal"  principle,  that  the  Scriptures  are 
our  only  rule  of  faith  and  duty,  and  the  "  material"  principle 
of  justification  by  faith  alone,  were  placed  in  the  front  of  the 
battle  against  the  novelties  of  the  Papacy.  To  these  two 
principles,  says  Ilagenbach,  the  Reformers  added  the  "  social" 
principle,  in  new  vigor,  whereby  they  formed  their  churches 
on  the  basis  of  the  universal  priesthood  of  believers.  The  old 
faith  and  the  old  charity  became  new  again.  The  Reformation, 
says  Guizot,  "  recalled  religion  to  the  laity."  Responsibility 
for  belief  was  no  longer  left  to  the  care  of  a  priestly  caste. 
7 


OS  REFORMED    CHURCHES    OF    EUROPE    AND    AMERICA. 

Though  the  Reformation,  under  God,  began  with  Luther 
in  the  power  of  faith,  it  was  cari-ied  on  by  Calvin  with 
greater  energy,  and  with  a  more  constructive  genius,  botli  in 
theology  and  in  church  polity,  as  iie  also  had  a  more  open 
field.  The  Lutheran  movement  affected  chiefly  the  centre, 
and  the  north  of  Europe  ;  the  Ileformed  Churches  wei-e 
j)lanted  in  the  west  of  Europe,  all  around  the  ocean,  in  the 
British  isles,  and  by  their  very  geographical  site  were  pre- 
pared to  act  the  most  efficient  part,  and  to  leap  the  walls  of 
the  old  world,  and  colonize  our  shores. 

Nothing  is  more  striking  in  a  general  view  of  the  history 
of  the  Reformed  Churches,  than  the  variety  of  countries  into 
which  we  find  their  characteristic  spirit,  both  n\  doctrine  and 
polity,  penetrating.  Throughout  Switzerland  it  was  a  grand 
popular  movement.  There  is  first  of  all,  Zwingle,  the  hero 
of  Zurich,  already  in  1516  preaching  against  the  idolatrous 
veneration  of  Mary,  a  man  of  generous  culture  and  intre})id 
spirit,  who  at  last  laid  down  his  life  upon  the  field  of  battle. 
In  Basle  we  find  Oecolampadius,  and  also  Bullinger,  the 
chronicler  of  the  Swiss  reform.  Farel  arouses  Geneva  to 
iconoclasm  by  his  inspiring  eloquence.  Thither  comes  in 
1536,  from  the  France  which  disowned  him,  Calvin,  the 
mighty  lawgiver,  great  as  a  preacher,  an  expositor,  a  teacher 
and  a  ruler ;  cold  in  exterioi-,  but  burning  with  internal  fire ; 
who  produced  at  twenty-fowF  years  of  age  his  unmatched 
Institutes,  and  at  thirty-five  had  made  Geneva,  under  an 
almost  theocratic  government,  the  model  city  of  Europe,  with 
its  inspiring  motto,  ^^post  tenehras  lux^''  lie  was  feared  and 
opposed  by  the  libertijies  of  his  day,  as  he  is  in  our  own.  His 
errors  were  those  of  his  own  times :  his  greatness  is  of  all 
times.  Hooker  calls  him  "incomparably  the  wisest  man  of 
the  French  Church ;  "  he  compares  him  to  the  "  Master  of 
Sentences,"  and  says,  ''  that  though  thousands  were  debtors 
to  him  as  touching  divine  knowledge,  yet  he  was  to  none, 
only  to  God."  Montesquieu  declares  that  "  the  Genevese 
should  ever  bless  the  day  of  his  birth."  Jewel  terms  him  "  a 
reverend   Father,  and   worthy  ornament  of  the   Church  of 


CALVIN   AND    CALVINISM.  99 

God."  "  He  that  will  not  honor  the  memory  of  Calvin,"  says 
Mr.  Bancroft,  "  knows  but  little  of  the  origin  of  American 
liberty."  Under  his  influence  Geneva  became  the  "  fertile 
seed-plot  "  of  reform  for  all  Europe  ;  with  Zurich  and  Stras- 
bourg, it  was  the  refuge  of  the  ojjpressed  from  the  Britisli 
Isles,  and  thus  indoctrinated  England  and  ourselves  with  its 
own  spirit. 

The  same  form  of  faith  was  planted  in  the  German  Pala- 
tinate, modified  by  the  influence  of  Melanchthon,  receiving 
an  admirable  exposition  in  the  Heidelberg  Catechism,  and 
the  writings  of  Ursinus,  and  forming  the  German  Reformed 
Church.  Holland  accepted  the  same  system  of  faith  with 
the  spirit  of  martyrdom  ;  against  Charles  and  Philip,  against 
Alba  and  the  inquisition,  it  fought  heroically,  under  the 
Prince  of  Orange,  of  imperishable  fame.  In  contending  for 
freedom  in  religion  it  imbibed  the  love  of  civil  freedom; 
which  it  brought  also  to  our  shores  ;  and  though  Guizot  does 
not  once  name  Holland  in  his  History  of  European  Civiliza- 
tion, we  can  never  name  it  but  with  honor  and  gratitude  ; 
itself  oppressed,  it  became  the  refuge  of  the  oppressed.  In 
England,  God  overruled  the  selfish  policy  of  Henry  VIII.  to 
the  furtherance  of  the  Gospel ;  the  persecution  of  Mary, 
1553-8,  sent  forth  the  best  of  England's  blood  to  Zurich  and 
Geneva,  there  to  imbibe  more  deeply  the  principles  of  the 
Reform,  and  to  bring  back  the  seeds  of  Puritanism,  whicli 
germinated  in  spite  of  the  High  Court  of  Commission  and 
the  Acts  of  Uniformity  of  1559  and  subsequent  years.  The 
Universities  were  Calvinistic  in  their  most  vigorous  period, 
when  Bucer  and  Peter  Martyr  taught  in  them  a  pure  faith. 
"  The  Reformation  in  England, "  says  the  Christian  Remem- 
brancer (1845),  "ended  by  showing  itself  a  decidedly  Calvin- 
istic movement."  "  The  Refonnation  produced  Calvinism  ; 
this  was  its  immediate  offspring,  its  genuine  matter-of-fact 
expression."  And  need  I  speak  of  Scotland,  where  the  tower- 
ing form  of  John  Knox,  also  taught  in  Geneva,  stands  out 
severe  in  doctrine  and  morals,  in  vivid  contrast  with  the  love- 
liness of  the  frail  and  passionate  Mary  ?     Her  chivalry  could 


100  KEFOEMED    CHURCHES    OF    EUROPE    AND    AMERICA. 

not  stem  the  tide.  Presb^'terianism  prevailed,  never  to  lose 
its  hold  of  the  Scotch  nation.  Their  "  fervid  genins "  was 
Avel)  pleased  with  this  strong  theology.  Tenacity  like  that  of 
the  Burghers,  and  of  the  Anti-Burghers,  both  New  and  Old 
Light,  and  the  indomitable  spirit  of  religious  independence, 
go  with  them  wherever  they  go.  The  Free  Church  battles  in 
the  nineteenth  century  for  the  principles  of  its  sires.  The 
Solemn  League  and  Covenant  reappear  in  our  own  land, 
transfei-red  from  religion  to  politics  in  the  Mecklenburg 
Declaration. 

The  same  spirit  which  elevated  Switzerland,  Llolland  and 
the  British  Isles,  broke  forth  in  the  reforms  of  Spain  and 
Italy,  to  be  strangled  in  blood.  In  France  we  read  its  saddest 
tale  in  that  dark  night  of  St.  Bartholomew,  lighted  by  lui-id 
fires,  while  not  a  star  of  heaven  shone,  for  which  Bome  by 
order  of  Gregory  XIII.,  sung  its  Te  Deum,  from  whose  bale- 
ful influence  France  has  not  yet  recovered,  and  which  could 
not  be  expiated  even  by  the  horrors  of  its  revolution.  That 
revolution  was  but  the  catastrophe  of  the  drama,  begun  in 
the  revocation  of  the  edict  of  Nantes;  "the  feet  of  the 
avenging  deity,"  says  a  Greek  proverb,  "  are  shod  with  wool." 
Those  high-minded  Huguenots,  nobles  and  artisans,  cast  out 
from  France,  were  scattered  through  Europe,  and  have  added 
lustre  to  our  own  history.  The  names  of  the  Prince  Conde, 
and  the  Admiral  Coligny,  of  Beza  praying  at  Poissy,  in  the 
presence  of  the  royalty  and  nobility  of  France,  of  Jurieu  and 
Amyrant,  of  De  Mornay,  D'Aubigne,  and  Henri  Estienne 
will  be  remembered  as  long  as  Christian,  chivalry  and  learn- 
ing receive  their  meed  of  praise.*     Something  of  their  spirit 

*  A  tardy  justice  is  beginning  to  be  rendered  in  France  to  the  deeds  and 
worth  of  the  Huguenots.  Other  countries  have  hitherto  appreciated  them 
better  than  has  their  native  land.  M.  Haag,  "La  France  Protestante," 
Sayons,  "  fitudes  litteraires  sur  les  ecrivains  fran^ais  de  la  Reformation," 
Coquerel,  "  Histoire  des  eglises  du  desert,"  Lalanne's  "  Memoirs  of  Agrippa 
D'Aubigne,"  and  especially  Weiss,  "  History  of  the  Protestant  Refugees," 
in  Mr.  Herbert's  version,  veith  the  researches  of  Mr.  Charles  Reid,  are 
among  the  works  which  are  contributing  to  elucidate  the  history  of  the 
French  martyrs. 


CALVINISM  THE  CHUECH  OF  THE  PEOPLE.        101 

lingered  long  in  France  in  Jansenism,  adorned  by  Pascal's 
virtues. 

These  general  historical  statements  make  it  apparent,  that 
the  principles  of  the  Calvinistic  churches  were  more  widely 
diffused  tlian  those  of  the  Lutherans,  and  among  the  most 
vigorous  nations.  Lutheranism  was  in  the  centre,  but  the 
Keformed  Chui-ches  begirt  the  whole  of  Western  Europe,  to 
the  English  isle, 

That  precious  stone,  set  in  the  silver  sea 
Which  serves  it  in  the  office  of  a  wall. 

But  that  sea  which  was  England's  wall,  became  to  these 
churches  the  highway  for  the  propagation  of  the  Gospel, 
opening  a  path  for  their  feet.  Lutheranism  had  its  ne  2>lus 
ultra  /  Calvinism  its  j)lus  ultra.  The  former  soon  settled 
down  at  peace  with  princes  ;  the  latter  was  always  in  difficulty 
with  the  rulers  of  this  world,  ever  contending  and  advancing. 
The  one  has  been  well  termed  the  Church  of  the  theologian, 
the  other  the  Church  of  the  people.  Both  were  Presbytei'ian, 
as  was  all  the  Beformation,  excepting  the  Anglican,  but  the 
Lutheran  insisted  more  on  territorial  and  consistorial,  and 
the  Calvinists  more  on  Presbyterial  and  congregational  rights. 
The  former  after  Melanchthon,  had  but  one  type  of  doctrine; 
the  Beformed  had  greater  diversities,  with  the  same  general 
features.  The  one  retained  the  sacramental  theory,  the  other 
subordinated  it  to  electing  grace.  Montesquieu  says,  "  that 
each  believes  itself  to  be  most  perfect,  the  Calvinists  believe 
themselves  most  conformed  to  what  Jesus  had  said,  the 
Lutherans  to  what  the  apostles  have  done."  The  one  dwelt 
chiefly  on  the  sovereignty  of  God,  the  other  on  the  wants  of 
man.  The  Calvinists,  says  Schweizer,  contended  against  the 
Pao-anism  of  Borne,  and  the  Lutherans  airainst  its  Judaism. 
The  former  has  ever  applied  the  standard  of  the  Scriptures 
with  more  unsparing  and  exchisive  rigor,  to  all  society  and 
all  life ;  the  latter,  absorbed  in  science,  pays  less  heed  to  the 
life.  The  one  has  led  a  more  secluded  life,  the  other  has 
done  stern  battle  on  the  open  sea.     Each   has  its  reward. 


102  EEFOEMED    CHURCHES    OF    ECTKOPE    AND    AMERICA. 

Lntheranism  has  been  speculative  and  stationary,  Calvinism 
thoughtful  and  aggressive.  Calvinism  has  its  roots  in  a 
deeper  practical  necessity  than  Lutheranism,  as  it  also  has 
had  a  more  penetrating  and  reforming  power,  working  its 
way  through  many  nations. 

Three  points  characterize  the  Calvinistic  movement,  and 
give  to  it  a  special  supremacy  in  modern  chui'ch  history :  its 
theological  system,  its  organizing  power,  and  its  practical 
efficiency  in  applying  the  Gospel  to  the  whole  of  life. 
/i  The  theological  system  received  by  the  Reformed  Churches 

was  a  revival  of  Augustinianism,  without  its  unhealthy  leaven 
of  sacramental  grace,  and  a  return  to  the  special  form  of  scrip- 
tural truth,  inculcated  by  Paul,  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Galatians, 
and  in  that  to  the  Romans,  "  still,"  says  one,  "  an  epistle  to 
the  Romans  of  our  times."  It  applied  the  formal  principle, 
that  the  Scriptures  are  our  only  divine  rule,  with  an  unwonted 
energy.  As  the  barons  of  England  said  to  Henry  III.,  that 
"  the  laws  of  England  should  not  be  changed,"  so  said  the 
Reformers  of  the  laws  of  God.  They  viewed  all  as  from,  for 
and  to  God.  They  elevated  the  doctrines  of  grace  on  high. 
They  bowed  in  deepest  submission  only  to  a  sovereign  will. 

With  the  same  solid  and  severe  general  cast  of  doctiine,  in 
all  the  countries  where  these  elect  ones  emerged  into  this  new 
life,  they  combined  a  much  greater  variety  in  incident  and 
detail,  than  the  sister  Lutheran  churches.  This  has  been,  con- 
trary, perhaps,  to  the  general  impression,  a  signal  mark  of 
the  Calvinistic  movement.  It  was  most  prolific  in  varied 
systems  of  theology,  and  in  a  rich  symbolical  literature.  Such 
symbols  are  needed  by  the  church,  and  will  always  be,  for  a 
threefold  office :  as  a  bond  of  union  ;  as  a  testimony  and  con- 
fession ;  and  as  an  instrument  of  teaching ;  not  superseding 
but  expounding  the  Word  of  God.  Of  such  confessions,  all 
the  Reformed  countries  produced  eminent  examples,  in  full- 
ness, and  doctrinal  consistency  far  in  advance  of  the  simple 
symbols  of  early  times,  and  these  still  remain,  the  historical 
basis  of  our  churches.  While  Rome  bound  itself  hand  and 
foot  to  mediaeval  corruptions  at  the  Council  of  Trent ;  while 


THE  THEOLOGY  OF  THE  EEFORMED  CHUKCHES.      103 

the  Lutherans  were  consolidated  by  theu*  Formula  of  Concord 
(1577);  in  all  the  other  countries  of  Europe,  the  Calvinistic 
system  was  in  substance  confessed,  by  many  a  Swiss  council, 
by  the  French,  by  the  Germans  at  Heidelberg,  by  the  Scotch, 
by  the  English  in  the  XXXIX.  Articles,  by  the  Dutch  at  Dort, 
and  last  and  best  of  all,  in  the  Westminster  Confession,  made 
by  the  combined  wisdom  of  England  and  Scotland,  innnedi- 
ately  received  in  Now  England,  adopted  by  the  Presbyterian 
churches  of  our  land,  and  never  superseded, — the  ablest  pro- 
duct of  this  symbolical  movement,  containing  the  best  results 
of  the  controversies  between  Romanism  and  Protestantism, 
and  among  the  Protestants  themselves.  It  was  composed 
with  the  greatest  care,  under  direction  of  the  Long  Parliament, 
submitted  to  them  7th  December,  1646,  and  sent  back  for 
"proof  texts."  Goodwin,  Lightfoot,  Calamy,  Selden  and 
Evelyn,  and  the  Scotch  Henderson,  Gillespie,  Rutherford  and 
Baillie,  with  much  ])rayer  and  earnest  study  of  the  Scripture, 
made  it  what  it  is. 

The  general  theological  system  of  the  Reformed  Churches, 
first  fully  expounded  in  Calvin's  Listitutes,  carried  to  its  most 
detailed  exposition  in  Geneva  by  Beza  and  Turrettin,  moved 
on  steadily  between  the  two  extremes  of  Antinomianism  and 
Arminianism.  It  received  a  more  historical  and  less  scholastic 
character  from  the  Dutch  theology  of  tlie  Covenants,  through 
the  labors  of  Cocceius  and  Witsius.  From  the  too  exclusive 
predominance  of  the  idea  of  the  "  Covenants,"  it  has  been 
redeemed  in  Scotland  and  especially  in  our  own  country,  in 
subsequent  discussions.  It  is  a  singular  fact  that  the  revival 
of  Calvinistic  theology  under  Edwards  in  our  own  land,  was 
coeval  with  its  decline  on  the  continent  of  Europe;  since  the 
middle  of  the  last  century,  no  great  Calvinistic  works  have  been 
tliere  produced  until  the  most  recent  times.  In  Scotland, 
Eno-land  and  our  own  countrv,  its  fortunes  have  been  different ; 
the  English  race  and  language  seem  more  favorable  to  its  spirit. 
But  everywhere  it  has  been  signalized  by  comprehensiveness 
and  acuteness,  with  occasional  excesses,  indeed,  in  the  revival 
of  merely  Jewish  ideas  and  polity.     It  insisted  in  a  special 


104  KEFOEMED    CIIUKCHES    OF    EUROPE    AND    AMERICA. 

mauner  upon  the  unity  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament  dispen- 
sations. By  its  early  and  careful  separation  of  natural  and 
revealed  theology  it  was  probably  saved  from  the  rationalism 
of  Germany  ;  its  manly  thought  kept  it  from  degenerating 
into  "  pietism."  The  respective  provinces  of  reason  and  rev- 
elation it  has  always  carefully  defined  and  guarded.  It  is 
rescued  from  scholasticism  by  its  deference  to  the  Word  of 
God.  Divine  sovereignty  and  human  freedom  are  its  two 
poles,  while  midway  between  God  and  man  stands  the  person 
of  Christ,  and  his  mediatorial  work,  aj^plied  not  directly 
through  sacraments  but  by  the  internal  efficacy  of  the  Holy 
Ghost.* 

With  these  theological  characteristics  of  the  Reformed 
Churches,  their  polity  harmonized  ;  the  one  seems  made  for 
the  other.  This  ecclesiastical  polity  is  equally  removed  from 
Prelacy  and  Independency ;  from  that  pi-elacy  which  annuls 
the  rights  of  the  churches,  and  from  that  independency  which 
in  the  part  forgets  the  whole.  Prelacy  annuls  and  indepen- 
dency isolates,  the  single  church ;  the  Reformed  Churches 
have  ever  striven  to  retain  both  the  unity  of  the  whole  and 
the  relative  freedom  of  each  congregation.  The  theory  of 
prelacy  resolves  the  essence  of  the  visible  church  into  the 
Episcopate ;  with  the  theory  of  independency  there  cannot 
be  construed  a  united  church,  a  proper  church  government 
for  the  whole  body,  any  more  than  the  theory  of  the  rights  of 

*  A  competent  history  of  the  theology  of  the  Reformed  Churches  is  a  de- 
sideratum in  English  literature.  Joshua  Wilson's  "  Historical  Inquiry  con- 
cerning the  Principles,  Opinions,  etc.,  of  the  English  Presbyterians,"  second 
edition,  183G,  contains  some  valuable  historical  materials.  In  Germanj^,  the 
discussions  and  writings  of  Schweizer,  Ebrard  and  Schneckenburger  have 
thrown  new  light  upon  the  progress  and  influence  of  the  Calvinistic  .system 
in  Europe,  and  have  made  its  elements  of  power  more  fully  felt.  Gass,  in 
his  "History  of  the  Protestant  Doctrinal  Theology,"  Vol.  I.,  published  the 
last  year,  has  done  it  more  justice  than  previous  Lutheran  writers.  Schwei- 
zer's  "  Glaubenslehre,"  and  especially  his  "  Protestantische  Centraldogmen," 
Vol.  I.,  though  strictly  necessarian,  are  composed  with  great  ability  and 
research.  In  Ebrard's  "  Christliche  Dogmatik,"  the  sections  which  narrate 
the  history  of  the  Reformed  Theology  are  of  much  value  and  interest.  But 
none  of  these  works  know  anything  about  the  Scotch  and  American  systems. 


SELF-ORGANIZING    SPIRIT   OF    CALVINISM,  105 

man  can  give  ns  the  idea  and  functions  of  the  State.  A  true 
theory  of  the  church  avoids  both  these  extremes. 

There  is  the  invisi))le  church,  the  true  church,  which  ac- 
cording to  all  Protestant  consent,  is  the  communion  of  the 
faithful,  in  Christ  with  each  other.  There  is  also  the  visible 
church,  a  body  of  believers  having  the  Word  and  Sacraments. 
As  necessary  to  the  well-being,  though  not  to  the  being  of 
each  church,  there  are  its  officers,  its  presbyters  and  deacons ; 
a  church  with  its  presbyters  gives  the  unit  of  the  system, 
which  is  constituted  throughout  on  the  representative  idea. 
Such  a  constitution  adopted  by  the  Reformed  bodies,  was  but 
a  revival  of  the  primitive  practice  ;  not  an  innovation,  but  a 
renovation.  Cut  off  the  superinduced  hierarchy,  and  in  all 
the  church  you  would  still  have  presbyters  and  presbyteries; 
such  as  Hilary  and  Jerome  describe  as  the  primitive  con- 
dition. Comparatively  independent  presbyteries  still  lingered 
in  the  third  century  in  Africa,  as  Cyprian  testifies. 

But  besides  these  features  of  the  Calvinistic  j^olity,  there 
was  developed  under  its  influence  a  remarkable  self-organiz- 
ing sj^irit,  which  it  has  carried  with  it  wherever  it  has  gone. 
In  this  it  is  strongly  contrasted  with  the  Lutheran  system.  It 
has  a  kind  of  social  instinct.  It  made  churches  of  covenanted 
believers,  such  as  had  not  been  known  since  the  apostolic 
times.  The  general  influence,  too,  of  Calvinism  has  been,  in 
the  main,  for  union  among  Protestant  bodies  ;  it  has  been 
cooperative  as  well  as  aggressive.  The  ideas  of  confederacy 
and  of  federal  union  were  ingrained  through  the  "  Covenants" 
into  the  leading  Reformed  Churches.  By  these  it  has  con- 
trolled and  shaped  States  as  well  as  made  Churches.  The 
union  of  church  and  state  in  the  old  world  has  prevented  the 
full  effects  of  this  Reformed  influence  from  being  felt;  but 
our  land  has  inherited  and  ap})lied  it  in  the  fullest  measure. 

AYith  such  a  theology  and  such  a  polity  we  might  anticipate 
the  thii:d--ti'ait  of  the  Reformed  Churches,  their  aggressive  and 
reforming  influence.  To  apply  the  Avhole  of  Christianity  to 
all  the  relations  of  life,  and  thus  to  regenerate  society,  is  that 
portion  of  its  work  which  has  given  it  the  most  marked  and 


106     EEFORMED  CHURCHES  OF  EUROPE  AND  AMERICA. 

popular  historical  influence.  It  has  transformed  the  theory 
of  despots,  '' all  for,  and  nothing  by  the  people,"  into  the 
maxim,  "  under  God,  all  for,  and  all  by  the  people."  Under 
God,  "  solus  jpojndi,  suprema  lexP  Its  theology  and  polity 
both  adapt  it  to  be  a  practical  system.  It  would  transform 
the  Christian  faith  into  the  Christian  life.  Hence  it  in- 
sisted upon  the  purity  of  church  membership,  reviving  the 
ancient  discipline  wherever  the  State  would  allow.  It  asks 
for  Christian  obedience  to  the  great  law  of  Christian  love, 
which  is  the  only  universal  solvent.  It  insists  upon  the  rights 
of  believers,  and  the  headship  of  Christ,  above  all  contraven- 
ing human  authority.  It  contended  first  for  civil,  for  the 
sake  of  religious  freedom.  The  whole  Reformation  was  a 
battle  for  the  rights  of  national  Churches  against  the  Su- 
preme Pontiff ;  Calvinism,  taking  a  step  in  advance,  has  also 
been  ever  contending  for  the  rights  of  individual  bodies  of 
believers  against  the  domineering  claims  even  of  a  national 
church.  This  problem  Europe  is  still  trying  to  solve ;  this 
problem  this  country  has  left  behind  it  in  its  onward  march. 
Here  was  the  soul  of  the  Puritan  movement  of  England. 
The  Puritans  cared  as  little  as  any  men  for  the  tippets  and 
cape  and  vestments,  which  Elizabeth, — shall  we  say  %  with  a 
kind  of  feminine  instinct — and  her  bishops,  with  another 
kind  of  instinct,  sought  to  impose  upon  them.  But  they  did 
care  for  the  rights  of  God's  people,  for  these  they  contended, 
and  won  the  battle,  not  so  much  for  themselves  as  for  us. 
And  we  venerate  their  manly  independence  !  Had  they  been 
less  stern,  we  had  been  less  free !  A  saintly  halo  adorns 
their  rugged  lives  !  They  have  found  the  glory  they  sought 
not,  and  found  it  because  they  sought  it  not. 

And  in  contending  for  religious,  they  purchased  for  England 
and  ourselves  the  boon  of  civil  freedom.  Many,  with  super- 
ficial judgment,  find  an  inconsistency  in  their  unqualified  de- 
vbtion  to  the  divine  sovereignty,  and  their  zealous  assertion  of 
human  rights.  But  there  is  a  logical  as  well  as  an  historical 
connection ;  obedience  to  God  made  them  fearless  toward  man ; 
God's  sovereignty  decrees  man's  freedom.     Kings  are  to  do 


PRACTICAL   POWER    OF    THE    REFORMED    SYSTEM.  107 

tlie  behests  of  the  Almighty  ;  by  them  princes  decveejustiee. 
Christ  is  the  only  Head  of  the  Church  ;  and  for  Ilini  his  peo- 
ple are  to  live  and  die.  Civil  freedom  is  necessary  for  reli- 
gious ;  and  religious  precedes  civil ;  here  as  elsewhere,  rehgion 
went  before  politics.  Hence,  the  Puritan  love  of  liberty  long 
repressed,  sometimes  forgotten  for  a  moment  by  themselves, 
but  still  a  sacr<id  fire  in  their  very  souls.  The  instinct  of  des- 
pots all  over  Europe  was  speedily  arrayed  against  the  Cal- 
vinists.  Louis  XIY.  and  Philip  II.  turned  against  them  with 
fire  and  sword  ;  James  I.  averted  his  face  from  the  Puritans. 
It  was  not  a  godless  freedom  for  which  they  contended,  it 
was  liberty  in  law,  first  the  law  of  God,  and  then  the  laws  of 
man.  A  recent  Roman  Cathijlic  defamer  of  the  Calvinists 
in  our  country  has  said,  "that  they  denied  to  all  men,  all 
natural  rights,  assuming  all  rights  to  have  been  forfeited  by 
the  fall,"  that  they  "  contended  for  liberty  only  for  the  elect." 
But  it  is  the  principle  of  his  own  church,  put  into  the  month 
of  those  whom  he  traduces,  in  the  face  of  the  uniform  historic 
testimony,  that  civil  freedom  here  and  in  all  Europe  has  ever 
followed  in  the  wake  of  the  Reformed  Churches.  History 
is  the  grand  revealer  of  the  real  soul  of  any  system. 

The  practical  power  of  the  system  of  the  Reformed  Churches 
is  also  seen  in  the  energy  with  which  they  have  pressed  all 
moral  reforms,  so  far  as  the  state  of  society  would  admit. 
Their  reforming  influence  extended  not  only  to  doctrine,  but 
also  to  life  ;  not  only  to  private  life,  but  also  to  the  purity  of 
the  church ;  not  alone  to  the  purity  of  the  church,  but  also  to 
the  whole  well-beinorof  society.  The  puro-inir  and  ajysci'essive 
part  of  modern  church  history,  belongs  peculiarly  to  them. 
Christ  is  present  as  of  old  in  his  church  relieving  the  distresses 
and  ministering  to  all  the  wants  of  men,  breaking  the  bonds  of 
the  oppressed,  raising  the  lower  to  the  higher,  sending  the  Gos- 
pel to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  The  ethical  side  of  Christianity, 
which  Rome  neglected,  has  been  developed  with  most  consis- 
tency by  the  same  bodies,  which  in  theology  are  so  comprehen- 
sive, and  in  polity  so  efficient.  And  the  triumph  of  the  Gospel 
in  time  is  completed,  when  and  only  when  such  reforms  are 


108     EEFORMED  CHUECHES  OF  EUROPE  AND  AMERICA, 

completed ;  to  carry  Christian  faith  and  love  into  all  the 
relations  of  life  is  tlie  earthly  triumph  of  the  Gospel. 

These  three  leading  characteristics  of  the  Reformed  Churches 
of  Europe  admirably  prepared  them  for  the  great  work,  which, 
under  divine  providence,  was  set  before  them  in  advancing  the 
history  of  the  Church  of  Christ.  That  work  was  not  chiefly 
to  be  performed  in  Euroj^e,  but  in  our  own  land.  Their  theol- 
ogy, their  polity,  and  their  reforming  spirit,  were  to  be  trans- 
ported to  a  wider  sphere,  where,  comparatively  unimpeded  by 
tradition,  and  custom,  and  prejudice,  no  longer  "cribbed,  cab- 
ined, and  confined,"  they  might  have  room  and  verge  enough 
to  work  out  anew  and  yet  more  widely  the  grand  purposes  of 
redeeming  love.  In  all  the  countries  of  Europe  these  men 
were  prepared,  and  from  all  the  countries  of  Europe  they 
came,  in  the  appointed  time,  to  colonize  our  shores.  It  is  no 
accidental  cii'cumstance,  in  Providence,  that  it  was  precisely 
and  chiefly  from  the  Reformed  Churches  of  Europe,  that  our 
temperate  zone  was  peopled  ;  and  that  the  tone  of  thought  and 
manner  was  given  by  them  to  our  land  in  its  infancy  and  prime. 
We  received  the  winnowed  wheat  of  Europe's  fields.  The 
men  most  deeply  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  Calvinism  were 
our  sires.  The  Puritans  and  the  Ilugaenots  were  so  far  in 
advance  of  their  own  native  countries,  in  theological,  ecclesi- 
astical, and  consequently  in  political  ideas,  that  they  must 
needs  be  persecuted  at  home.  And  their  persecutions  drove 
them  hither,  to  found  a  new  and  mighty  republic.  Cromwell 
could  not  give  a  commonwealth  to  England,  but  we  received 
it.  The  Genevese  polity  could  not  reshape  France,  but  it 
formed  the  Huguenots  for  us.  The  noble  Robinson  must 
leave  Scrooby,  and  enjoy  the  hospitality  of  Holland,  that  he 
might  train  his  pilgrims,  Brewster,  Bradford,  and  Carver,  to 
take  possession  of  New  England.  These  men  lived,  not  for 
themselves,  but  for  us ;  not  for  ns,  but  for  God. 

This  is  the  real  central  point  of  view  for  understanding  our 
own  history.  It  was  planted  by  a  colonization  such  as  has 
been  never  before  known.  It  was  not  for  politics  chiefly,  it 
was  not  for  commerce,  it  was  for  the  church  of  God  to  ad- 


CHRISTIANITY    A   WORKING    SYSTEM.  109 

vance  Christianity  yet  another  stadium  in  its  conrso,  tliat  our 
fathers  came  hither  from  all  these  nations.  Christianity  in 
its  first  era  subdued  unto  itself  the  old  Greek  and  Roman 
civilization,  took  tlie  spoils  of  the  ancient  world,  and  got  the 
basis  for  its  theology  through  its  prolonged  discussion  of  the 
doctrines  of  the  Trinity,  the  Incarnation,  and  Divine  Grace. 
The  same  Christianity  in  its  second  and  mediaeval  era  subdued 
the  German  world,  and  brought  kings  and  nations  in  subjec- 
tion to  an  ecclesiastico-political  authority.  But  Christianity 
is  not  only  a  system  of  doctrine,  is  not  only  an  ecclesiastical 
system,  it  is  also  a  working  system,  given  to  redeem  the  earth. 
And  hence  in  its  last  stadium,  under  the  regenerated  Anglo- 
Saxon  race,  it  is  to  reform  the  whole  life  by  the  mighty  power 
of  divine  truth  and  faith.  The  application  of  the  whole  of 
Christian  theology,  through  and  by  the  church,  to  the  whole 
of  society  and  life  is  the  problem,  which  Calvinism  grasped 
as  never  before,  and  to  which  this  land  was  given,  that  it 
might  work  the  problem  out.  Rome  vainly  tried  to  reduce 
the  temporal  to  the  spiritual,  through  an  organized  corpora- 
tion, usurping  the  functions  of  Christ ;  we  are  working  at 
the  same  task  in  a  more  spiritual  method.  Europe  since  the 
Reformation  has  also  been  vainly  trying  to  apply  Christianity 
to  the  whole  of  society,  by  the  union  of  Cliurch  and  State. 
We  are  engaged  in  the  same  work  in  a  different  way,  al)olish- 
ing  this  union,  and  working  directly  througli  the  church  upon 
society  and  individuals,  and  not  through  the  state.  Tliis  is 
our  peculiarity;  this  is  in  the  very  genius  of  Calvinism;  and 
thus  is  our  church  history  connected  with  the  whole  plan  of 
God.  For  this  was  our  country  reserved,  and  the  elect  ones 
of  Europe  sent  here.  Oar  country  is  the  product  of  the 
Reformed  Churches  of  all  Europe. 

How  wonderful  it  seems,  that  in  the  course  of  divine  Prov- 
idence, this  Western  world,  so  long  hidden,  should  have  been 
unveiled  and  disclosed,  at  the  very  time  that  Europe  was 
preparing  for  the  Reformation :  how  much  more  wondei-ful, 
that  its  central  portions  should  have  remained  still  unsettled, 
for  more  than  a  century,  waiting  for  the  results  of  the  con- 


110  REFORMED    CHURCHES    OF    EUROPE    AND    AMERICA. 

flicts  of  the  Keformation,  reserved  to  receive  and  develop 
the  principles  engendered  in  these  strifes  !  For  such  a  land, 
prophecy  had  longed  !  The  vision  of  an  El  Dorado,  of  a  new 
Atlantis,  has  cheered  the  wisest  of  our  race.  The  vision  was 
dissipated,  the  reality  disclosed,  when  the  New  World  was 
discovered.  Some  exj)ositors  find  it  foretold  in  the  Scriptures, 
that  speak  of  the  land  overshadowed  by  the  eagle's  wings. 
Lord  Bacon  reads  in  Seneca  (Medea,  act  ii.  v.  375  sq.)  a  pro- 
phecy of  it,  where  lie  desci'ibes  an  age  "  in  which  the  ocean 
shall  dissolve  the  bonds  of  things  and  a  great  land  appear, 
and  there  shall  no  more  be  an  Ultima  Thule."  Erik  the  Red, 
from  Iceland,  visited  its  Vineland,  now  New  England,  five 
centuries  ere  Columbus  came  in  his  frail,  adventurous  bark, 
comforting  himself,  as  Hakluyt  says,  "  with-  the  thought,  that 
the  land  had  a  beginning  where  the  sea  had  an  ending."  He, 
too,  died  not  knowing  all  that  he  had  found  ;  but  he  tooK  pos- 
session of  it,  in  the  name  of  the  Catholic  Church.  And  the 
Southern  islands  and  coast,  and  the  Northern  limits  and  lakes 
of  our  country,  the  St.  Lawrence,  Canada,  and  Acadia, 
Penobscot,  and  the  shores  of  lake  Huron,  the  whole  of  the 
Mississippi  Valley,  up  to  the  Falls  of  St.  Anthon}',  and  down 
to  its  month,  were  settled  under  Roman  Catholic  auspices. 
The  adventurous  Jesuits  were  sagacious  and  indefatigable  in 
planting  missions ;  even  a  Fenelon  probably  labored  in  New 
York  to  propagate  the  faith  of  Rome. 

But  not  to  Spain,  nor  to  France,  nor  to  the  Papacy  was  our 
land  to  be  given ;  they  surrounded  the  country  but  neglected 
its  centre.  That  was  to  be  colonized  under  other  auspices. 
Charles  I.  and  Laud  would  have  a  hierarchy  at  home,  and  the 
Puritans  came  to  New  England.  The  Presbyterians  of  Scot- 
land, dragooned  by  Claverhouse,  were  sent  as  bondsmen  to 
our  Middle  States,  and  from  their  martyr  seed  sprang  up 
armed  men  in  our  revolution.  The  Huguenots,  expelled  from 
France,  made  their  first  attempt,  under  Calvin's  and  Coligny's 
influence,  to  settle  this  country  in  Brazil  in  1555  ;  next  in 
Florida,  then  in  New  England  ;  and  they  infused  something 
of  their  chivalric  spirit  from  Maine  to  Georgia,  ever  honored 


EUROPEAN    IIISIORT ITS    BEARINGS    ON    OUR    OWN.  Hi 

ill  the  imines  of  Legare,  Bowdoin,  Boudinot,  and  Nash  Le 
Grand.  The  pretensions  of  Anglican  Episcopac}^,  too,  nour- 
ished here  the  seeds  of  opposition  to  England  :  the  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury  virtually  claimed  under  England  to  be,  what  a 
Pope  had  called  him  ^'■Alterius  orhis  Fapa,^''^  and  resistance 
to  him  became  among  all  our  Puritans,  resistance  to  England. 
Through  what  wonderful  and  hidden  causes  runs  the  cause 
of  Divine  Providence.  We  were  made  great  and  free  by  the 
influences  which  would  have  destroyed  our  sires,  had  they 
not  resisted,  but  yielded.  What  Providence  meant  in  all 
these  incidents  is  seen  in  the  result.  Thus  does  history  extort 
from  Providence  its  secrets  and  disclose  them  to  man  in  liis 
own  progress  in  freedom  and  virtue. 

The  summary  of  the  European  history,  since  the  Eeforma- 
tioi  ,  in  its  bearings  on  our  own  is  then  briefly  this.  The 
Refurmation  found  in  the  Calvinistic  movement  its  most 
decided  and  complete  ex23ression,  in  doctrine,  in  polity  and 
in  relation  to  life.  The  heart  of  the  conflicts  ui  the  Euro- 
pean States  was  in  this  Calvinistic  struggle,  consummated  in 
Puritanism  ;  this  is  the  central  point  of  view  from  which  to 
read  the  European  history  of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth 
centuries.  To  those  nations  in  which  this  movement  attained 
its  greatest  strength,  its  most  decided  chai-acter,  was  com- 
mitted by  Divine  Providence  the  office  of  colonizing  and 
building  up  the  States  of  our  confederacy.  The  conflicts 
which  Calvinism  engendered  in  these  nations  had  their  issue 
in  this  emigration  to  our  land.  Their  men  of  faith  and  zeal, 
those  in  whom  the  principles  of  this  movement  were  most 

*  This  title  appears  to  have  been  first  given  to  Anselm,  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury,  as  a  compliment,  by  Pope  Urban  II.  (1087-1099);  thusGervase, 
monk  of  Canterbury,  writes,  "  Tantam  ejus  gratiam  habuit,  ut  cum  (Ansel- 
mum)  alterius  orbis  papam  vocaret  (Urbanus  Papa).  Cf.  Twysden,  '•  His- 
torical Vindication,"  p.  23.  That  the  pretensions  of  the  Anglican  Church 
fostered  the  seeds  of  our  Revolution  appears  from  the  "  Minutes  of  the 
Convention  of  Delegates  from  the  Synod  of  New  York  and  New  Jersey, 
.and  from  the  Association  of  Connecticut,"  from  1706  to  1775,  published 
some  years  since  at  Hartford.  A  leading  object  of  this  Convention  was  to 
consult  respecting  the  Anglican  project  of  making  Episcopacy  predominant. 


112  EEFOEMED    CIIUKCHES    OF    EUROPE    AND   AMERICA. 

ripe,  persecuted  yet  not  cast  down,  came  from  all  these 
European  States  to  found  new  States  in  a  new  world,  and 
here  to  continue  the  succession  and  the  progress  of  the  history 
of  Christ's  kingdom,  even  to  its  ultimate  triumphs.  They 
came  from  England,  Scotland,  France,  Holland,  and  the 
Palatinate,  and  settled  in  New  England,  ISTew  York,  New 
Jersey,  Pennsylvania,  the  Carolinas  and  Ge(M'gia,  uncon- 
sciously forming  the  elements  of  a  new  and  mighty  Christian 
nation.  Northern  and  "Western  Europe  was  the  nursery  of 
the  trees  which  God  j)lanted  there  to  be  transplanted  here. 

How  apparently  insignificant  the  incidents,  and  yet  how 
varied  and  complicated,  which  have  served  to  make  us  what 
we  are.  To  ascribe  great  events  to  little  causes  is  an  art  by 
which  some  historians  elicit  a  cheap  wonder,  and  seem  to  cast 
irony  on  the  whole  of  history ;  as  wlien  it  is  said  that  only  a 
cobweb  kept  Mohammed's  pursuers  from  capturing  him  in 
his  cave  of  refuge.  But  all  great  events  are  somewhere  small 
in  the  details  and  analysis.  The  real  wonder  is,  that  out  of 
such  petty  circumstances,  the  greatest  results  are  worked  out : 
and,  because  they  are  so  slight,  to  weave  them  together  into 
one  plan  demands  a  divine  p»ower  and  skill.  It  is  not  the  blind 
goddess  of  chance  who  can  make  these  grand  combinations. 
Great  events  are  those,  and  only  those,  which  embosom  great 
thoughts  and  principles.  The  play  of  every  human  passion 
may  be  a  gossamer  filament  in  the  wel)  or  woof  of  human 
destiny.  And  men  are  great  in  history,  not  chiefly'  by  the 
force  of  intellect,  not  by  foresight  of  all  the  consequences  of 
their  acts,  but  by  the  depth  of  their  moral  convictions,  and 
by  the  fact  that  even  their  insignificant  deeds  are  part  of  a 
divine  plan  ; 

And  in  such  indexes,  although  small  pricks 
To  their  subsequent  volume,  there  is  seen 
The  baby  figure  of  the  giant  mass 
Of  things  to  come  at  large. 

Thus  has  it  been  in  a  most  conspicuous  manner  with  the 
facts  of  our  earlier,  as  illustrated  by  our  subsequent  history. 


YAEYING    TYPES    OF   AilERICAN    PRESTTTEEIANISM.  113 

This  is  also  strikingly  apparent  in  the  foundation  and  progress 
of  the  Presbyterian  Chnrches  of  our  countrj'. 

These  Presbyterian  Churches  have  retained  the  great 
general  characteristics  of  the  Reformed  Churches  of  Europe 
as  we  have  already  sketched  them  ;  but  tliej^  have  developed 
them  in  a  peculiar  way,  with  new  combinations  and  under 
freer  ausj^ices.  That  they  have  been,  or  must  be,  conformed 
to  any  one  type  of  European  Calvinism,  to  the  exclusion  of 
others,  is  contrary  to  their  history  and  spirit,  and  the  whole 
circumstances  of  their  origin.  Each  of  our  larger  religious 
bodies  has  been  made  up  by  a  fusion  and  compromise  of  ele- 
ments, nearly,  but,  in  very  few  cases,  wholly  the  same.  This 
is  a  grea,t  law  of  Providence  in  accomplishing  great  things  ; 
it  combines  in  a  new  form,  for  higher  efficiency,  already  ex- 
isting elements.  Paces  sundered  in  the  old  world  are  here 
reunited  ;  they  intermarry  and  forget  their  feuds.  The  sec- 
tarianism of  Europe  is  the  catholicity  of  America.  The 
smallest  bodies  of  the  old  world  ai-e  the  largest  here.  If  all 
parties  remained  here,  just  as  they  are  in  Europe,  we  should 
have  no  America.  The  very  separation  of  Church  and  State, 
into  which  Calvinism  here  grew  by  an  internal,  as  well  as 
external  necessity,  would  of  itself  alone  produce  great 
changes.  This  separation  was  what  all  the  great  Reformers 
Calvin,  Luther  and  Melanchthon,  desired,  but  were  unable  to 
eifect  in  Europe.  We  have  in  consequence  a  greater  multi- 
plicity of  sects;  but  we  have  also  less  jarring  of  these  sects, 
and  a  gradual  growth  of  a  more  liberal  Christian  spirit,  in 
spite  of  many  sectarian  diversions. 

The  dividing  line  of  the  Presbyterian,  as  of  the  whole 
ecclesiastical  history  of  our  country,  must  be  taken  with  our 
political  independence.  All  before  this  is  preparation,  the 
cradling  and  youth  of  our  churches.  Wliat  they  truly  were 
in  s]3irit  and  polity  has  since  become  manifest.  To  attribute 
to  our  manhood,  what  were  the  errors  and  needful  restrictions 
of  youth,  or  the  prejudices  of  our  state  of  tutelage,  is  to  do 
injustice  to  ourselves,  to  history  and  to  divine  Providence. 
The  separation  from  the  mother  country  was  the  stroke  that 
8 


114  EEFOEMED    CIIUECIIES    OF    EUKOPE    AND    AMERICA. 

burst  the  shell,  and  showed  what  we  really  were.  By  that 
event,  the  divorce  of  Church  and  State  was  fully  inaugurated 
in  principle.  The  consummation  of  that  divorce,  and  its  in- 
calculable influence  upon  the  whole  character  of  the  Church, 
we  are  now  experiencing.  Christianity  stands  as  it  has  never 
yet  stood,  upon  its  own  vantage  ground.  We  are  proving 
that  it  is  self-sustaining ;  that  it  needs  not  the  secular  arm  to 
stay  it  up  ;  that  it  works  most  efficiently  as  it  works  of  and 
for  itself. 

In  the  period  of  our  preparation,  the  most  significant  cir- 
cumstance, as  far  as  it  affects  Presbyterian  history,  is,  that 
while  the  chief  regions  of  our  land,  New  England,  New 
York  and  Pennsylvania,  were  settled  by  other  i-eligious 
bodies,  and  chiefly  for  religious  ends,  the  Presbyterians 
came,  and  were  at  first  dispersed  through  the  different  colo- 
nies, without  any  favor  fi-om  any  colonial  government,  but 
rather  opposed,  and  that  they  grew  and  came  together  in 
spite  of  manifold  discouragements.  New  England  was 
colonized  by  the  Puritans,  and  their  church  polity  was  fos- 
tered by  the  state ;  so  that  their  civil  and  religious  history  is 
interwoven.  But  the  Presbyterian  Church  history,  from  the 
beginning,  is  the  history  of  a  church,  and  not  of  a  Church 
and  State.  In  New  York  the  Dutch  and  Episcopalians  grew 
M'ith  the  favor  of  the  reigning  powers.  The  Friends  in 
Pennsylvania,  the  Roman  Catholics  in  Maryland,  the  Episco- 
pal Church  in  the  Southern  States  were  all  cherished  by  the 
colonial  governments.  But  the  Presbyterians  from  England, 
Scotland,  Ireland  and  France,  came  and  were  scattered, 
chiefly  thr(mgh  the  Middle  States,  and'  found  none  to  help 
them.  Their  hardships  made  them  sti-ongei-,  wiser,  and  also 
more  ready  for  the  Eevolution.  They  were  as  the  sheejT  scat- 
tered among  the  mountains,  until  at  Rehoboth  the  first  con- 
gregation was  assembled.  Francis  Makemie  M-as  laboring  at 
Accomac,  in  1690,  though  he  had  previously  preached'  to  any 
he  could  find  in  the  dispersion.  He  was  a  man  abundant  in 
labors  and  devotion  ;  of  dauntless  energy,  whom  the  imprison- 
ment and  the  fine  of  £83  7s.  Gd.  of  the  New  York  governor, 


PKOGEESS    AND    ELEMENTS    OF    OUK   PKESBYTEKIANISM.      115 

for  his  endeavors  "to  subvert  the  Queen's  ecclesiastical 
supremacy"  could  not  deter;  and,  in  Maryland,  Virginia^ 
Delaware,  and  Pennsylvania,  he  preached  comfort  and 
strength  to  those  whom  the  Scotch  persecution,  between 
166U-1668,  had  brought  hither.  As  the  Presbyterian  con- 
gregations were  gradually  formed,  in  the  early  part  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  they  drew  together  men  of  different 
origin,  but  of  kindred  faith,  Scotch,  Irish,  English,  Welsh, 
French  and  also  emigrants  from  New  England.  The  tirst 
Church  of  Philadelphia  was  organized  in  1701,  under  Jede- 
diah  Andrews,  from  New  England,  to  whom  Makemie  be- 
queathed his  '•  black  camlet  cloak."  The  churches  at  South 
Hampton,  Long  Island,  and  at  Newark,  and  several  in  East 
Jersey  had  been  already  formed  chiefly  from  the  New  Eng- 
land emigration.  From  the  nature  of  the  case,  the  individual 
churclies  were  flrst  formed,  and  became,  as  in  apostolic  times, 
the  elements  of  the  ecclesiastical  system.  The  Presbytery  of 
Philadelphia  was  organized  in  1705  ;  it  was  expanded  into 
the  Synod  in  1717,  consisting  of  twenty-nine  ministers,  about 
half  of  whom  were  from  New  England,  and  half  of  Scotch 
and  Irish  oi'igin.  The  Covenanters  and  Seceders,  following 
the  stricter  tradition,  remained  chiefly  apart.  By  the  Adopt- 
ing Act  of  1729,  the  Westminster  Confession  and  Catechism 
were  received,  as  they  had  already  been  in  doctrine  in  New 
England  for  eighty-one  years,  "  as  being  in  all  the  essential 
and  necessary  articles,  good  form  of  sound  words  and  systems 
of  Christian  doctrine,  "  and  it  was  enjoined  that  none  should 
be  admitted  to  the  ministry  who  did  not  declare  their 
"  agreement  in  opinion  with  all  the  essential  and  necessary 
articles  of  said  Confession."  Scruples  about  articles  not 
essential  were  to  be  waived. 

From  this  point  the  churches  rapidly  advanced,  and  with 
the  increase  of  emigration  from  Ireland  and  Scotland.  This 
is  not  the  time  to  discuss  the  influences  of  the  Great  Eevival, 
which  added  so  largely  to  the  growth  of  tlie  body,  increasing 
the  ministry  from  forty-flve  to  one  hundred,  killing  the  theory 
of  an   unconverted    ministry,  and    rooting  out   Antinomian 


116  KEFORMED   CHURCHES    OF    EUROPE    AND    AMERICA. 

views;  nor  to  dwell  npon  the  labor  of  the  Tenneiits ;  the  Log 
College  of  Neshamiuy ;  the  founding  of  Princeton  and  other 
colleges ;  the  old  division  between  Philadelphia  and  New 
York,  the  scliism  of  1741,  and  the  fortunate  and  Christian 
reunion  and  healing  in  1758,  by  which  the  church  was  con- 
solidated afresh,  previous  to  the  Revolution,  and  prepared  for 
the  formation  of  the  General  Assembly  in  1789,  beginning 
its  new  and  riper  history,  with  that  of  our  Pepublic.  With 
scarcely  an  exception,  all  the  Presbyterians  were  republicans  ; 
their  church  polity  was  in  harmony  witli  rejMiblican  prin- 
ciples.* 

And  since  then  the  growth  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  has 
been  of  an  almost  unexampled  rapidity,  keeping  pace  with 
the  mighty  progress  of  our  whole  land.  It  has  stood  upon 
the  basis  of  the  Westminster  Confession.  Into  old  forms  it 
has  infused  a  new  life.  It  has  proved  itself  able,  in  doctrine 
and  polity,  to  meet  the  new  demands,  without  sacrificing  its 
real  spirit.  It  has  labored  for  the  education  of  all,  especially 
for  the  ministry.  As  much  as  any  ecclesiastical  body  in  the 
land, it  has  shown  itself  able  to  combine,  in  just  proportions, 
the  conservative  and  progressive,  the  old  and  the  new.  It  has 
borne  its  faithful  testimony  in  favor  of  all  true  reform,  and 
against  all  sin.  In  Foreign  and  in  Home  missions,  it  has 
girded  itself  for  the  task  laid  upon  it.  As  a  whole,  it  has 
sought  for  union  and  Christian  fellowship  among  the  divided 
sects.  Especially  has  it  recognized  its  fellowship  wath  New 
England,  in  its  Plan  of  Union  and  in  much  of  its  theological 
spirit.  The  works  of  the  elder  Edwards,  wnth  the  Assembly's 
Shorter  Catechism,  are  a  kind  of  spiritual  bond  betw^een 
Presbyterians  and  Congregationalists.  Confiic-ting  elements 
and  tendencies  have  also  come  from  thence  into  our  churches  : 

*  The  Mecklenburg  Declaration  of  the  Convention  of  North  Carolina, 
framed  on  the  pattern  of  the  Solemn  League  and  Covenant,  was  adopted  in 
May,  1775.  The  Synod  of  New  York  were  the  first  ecclesiastical  body  to 
counsel  open  resistance  to  England.  Dr.  Witherspoon  well  represented  the 
whole  body,  when  he  said  on  the  floor  of  Congress,  "  in  the  very  nick  of 
time;"  "  of  property  I  have  some,  of  reputation  more  ;  that  reputation  is 
staked,  that  property  is  pledged  on  the  issue  of  this  contest." 


EXTREMES  ALIEN  TO  THE  SPIRIT  OF  REFORISIEP  THEOLOGY.     117 

the  problems  which  they  raise,  both  in  doctrine  and  in  politv, 
have  not  yet  been  fully  worked  out.  But  this  nnich  at  least 
the  occasion  not  only  allows,  but  demands,  that  we  should 
say,  that  the  Presbyterian  Churches  have  no  controversy,  and 
no  cause  thereof,  with  the  New  England  theology  and  the 
New  England  polity,  when  the  former  does  not  substitute  a 
merely  ethical  system  for  that  of  the  Westminster  Confession, 
and  when  the  latter  does  not  degenerate  into  a  mere  ecclesi- 
astical independency. 

Of  the  various  and  complicated  influences  which  led  to 
the  division  of  1S37,  since  which  time  both  branches  of  the 
Presbyterian  Church  have  nearly  doubled  in  numliers,  and  of 
our  present  position  and  conflicts,  the  occasion  forbids  me  to 
speak.  Nor  would  I  say  a  word  which  nn'ght  serve  to  em- 
bitter an  unhappy  strife,  or  to  rekindle  the  fires  of  an  old 
jealousy.  In  a  more  comprehensive  faith  and  a  larger  charity, 
may  the  children  forget  the  separation  of  their  sii-es.  But 
this  at  least,  I  may  express  as  my  heartfelt  conviction, — that 
in  a  body  constituted  as  is  ours,  and  in  our  land,  no  extremes 
of  measures  or  of  theory  can  find  a  permanent  influence. 
Individuals  may  demand  an  unlicensed  liberty ;  individual 
theorizers  may  press  some  doctrine  of  human  freedom  in  an 
absolute  sense,  and  some  theory  of  virtue,  so  as  to  seem  to 
exclude  the  vital  necessity  of  personal  faith  in  Christ :  some 
partial  and  local  tendencies  may  deny  all  moral  connection 
between  the  race  and  Adam,  and  resolve  justification  into 
pardon,  and  deny  that  Christ's  merits  are  a  strict  and  proper 
moral  ground  of  our  acceptance ;  some  bold  theoi'ists  may 
substitute  an  abstract  ethical  system  for  the  truth  as  it  is  in 
Jesus  ;  but  such  cannot  be  the  character  of  the  theology  which 
our  churches  require,  and  it  is  alien  to  the  whole  spirit  of  the 
theology  which  all  the  Reformed  Churches  of  Europe  and 
our  own  land  have  confessed.  Nor  can  it  meet  the  demands 
of  our  country  and  of  our  times  for  a  living  system  of  divine 
tnith  ;  for  such  a  system  as  may  be  the  bread  and  water  of 
eternal  life  for  our  land  and  for  the  whole  earth.  The  truth 
is,  we  have  outo-rown  some  of  our  old  discussions,  and  ai-e 


118  KEFOKMED    CHURCHES    OF    EUROPE    AWD    AMERICA. 

better  aljle  to  appreciate  them  ;  and  we  are  in  the  midst  of 
movements  and  iiifinences  which  demand  that  we  rally  anew 
on  the  old  foundations,  Jesus  Christ  himself  being  the  chief 
corner  stone. 

And  this  leads  me  to  the  concluding  part  of  this  discussion, 
and  that  is,  the  bearing  of  the  system  of  faith  and  of  the 
whole  spirit  of  our  churches,  upon  the  great  ends  for  which 
the  Christian  Church  was  established ;  upon  the  accomplish- 
ment of  the  divine  purposes  in  the  kingdom  of  Redemption  ; 
upon  the  problem  of  the  final  destiny  of  the  human  race.  How 
does  our  land,  how  does  our  system  stand  in  relation  to  this 
ultimate  and  all-absorbing  question  ? 

If  I  liave  given  a  correct  representation  of  the  character  of 
the  Reformed  Churches,  they  have  grasped  the  grand  features 
of  this  historic  problem  with  a  more  definite  aim,  and  with  a 
larger  promise  of  success  than  any  other  portion  of  the  Chris- 
tian Church. 

The  solution  of  the  problem  of  the  world's  history  is  to  be 
found  in  the  right  answer  to  the  question, — What  is  the  final 
destiny  of  the  human  race  2  The  answer  to  that  question  is  to 
be  found,  and  can  be  found,  only  in  the  Kingdom  of  God  in 
Christ,  which  is  the  centre  and  sum  of  history.  The  end  of 
that  kingdom  is,  the  redemption  of  the  woidd  through  Christ, 
to  the  glory  of  God  the  Father.  This  end  can  only  be  attained, 
as  the  whole  Cln-istian  system  penetrates  and  is  applied  to  the 
whole  of  human  society  and  life.  The  real  soluticm  of  the 
problem  of  all  history  is  to  be  found  at  last  in  the  practical 
sphere,  the  sphere  of  life.  And  as  we  have  said  and  seen, 
the  very  idea  of  the  system  of  the  Reformed  Churches  centres 
and  culminates  in  its  practical  efiiciency.  Here  is  the  test 
and  proof  (jf  its  real  greatness.  And  this  land,  cut  off  from 
the  embarrassments,  while  reaping  the  full  lieritage  of  the 
jjast,  was  given  to  it,  that  it  might  work  this  problem  out. 
The  reform  of  the  whole  of  society,  by  the  religion  of  re- 
demption, the  ti-ansformation  of  society  into  the  kingdom  of 
Christ — this  is  oui-  great  work  ;  and  in  this  work  are  found 
the  aim  and  sum  of  the  whole  history  of  the  race,  the  solu- 


OUK    SPLENDID    GEOGKxiPHICAL    POSITION.  119 

tion  of  the  chief  historic  problem.  This  point  has  never  been 
i-aised  anywhere  as  it  is  now  in  onr  land.  To  this,  our 
theology,  our  polity,  and  our  life,  are  tending.  To  make 
society  Christian,  to  bring  all  around  Christ  and  in  subjection 
to  Him,  seems  our  highest  destination,  above  all  that  mere 
ethics  or  civil  power  can  effect. 

And  what  a  commanding  geographical  position  has  been 
given  us  for  this  work,  as  to  no  other  people.  Rome  was 
only  in  the  centre  of  the  Mediterranean  sea,  we  are  in  the 
same  relative  position  to  the  two  oceans,  the  middle  way, 
between  the  ancient  world  of  Asia,  and  the  modern  world  of 
Europe.  Our  territory  is  nearly  twice  the  extent  of  that 
of  the  Koman  empire  in  its  palmiest  days.  And  what  a  stu- 
pendous theatre,  commensurate  it  would  seem  with  the 
grandeur  of  our  lot  I  It  needs  but  to  come  from  the  At- 
lantic to  St.  Louis  to  be  oppressed  with  the  boundless  mag- 
nificence of  our  material  basis  and  means.  One  day  carries 
us,  as  on  the  wings  of  the  wind,  through  the  cities  and  vil- 
lages and  wheat  fields  of  New  York ;  the  next  we  vex  the 
waves  of  one  of  the  noblest  of  our  inland  seas ;  the  third 
transports  us  through  the  heart  of  majestic  forests ;  the 
fourth  we  are  swept  along  over  prairies  so  vast  as  to  be- 
wilder the  imagination  vainly  attempting  to  recall  them,  and 
so  fertile,  that  they  may  give  sustenance  to  a  nation ;  and 
even  then  we  have  not  yet  come  to  the  centre  of  our  con- 
tinent, we  have  only  reached  its  central,  living  stream,  the 
niiglity  Mississippi,  with  twenty  thousand  miles  of  navigable 
tributaries  ;  and  all  along  this  course  are  those  towns  and 
cities,  hardly  less  wonderful  than  the  country  in  which  they 
are  planted,  instinct  with  life,  with  all  the  appliances  of 
civilization  brought  to  the  very  fireside,  and  St.  Louis  at  the 
end  fitly  crowning  the  wdiole  ;  and  all  this  unequalled  mag- 
nificence of  lake,  forest,  prairie  and  river  is  but  the  material 
substratum, — the  noblest  foundation  of  the  highest  civiliza- 
tion. And  why  was  all  this  reserved,  until  now?  What 
destiny  is  commensurate  with  such  an  oppt)rtunity  ?  What 
wonderful  purpose  of  divine  Providence,  hidden  for  ages,  is 


120  EEFOEMED    CIIUKCHES    OF    EUKOrE    AND    A3IEKICA. 

to  be  accomplished  in  the  centre  of  this  new  world,  which  is 
also  older  in  a  large  part  pf  its  geological  structure  than  any 
other  portion  of  our  earth  ?  What  a  solemn,  yet  inspiring, 
trust  is  committed  to  the  people  of  our  land ! 

But  the  working  out  of  the  great  problem  of  human  des- 
tiny demands  not  only  a  fitting  theatre,  but  also,  that  upon 
that  theatre  should  be  concentrated  and  brought  together  the 
representatives  of  the  leading  races,  and  of  all  the  leading 
moral,  social  and  religious  tendencies,  out  of  which  the  end  is 
to  be  elaborated.  And  these,  too,  we  have,  as  never  yet  had 
another  people.  More  tongues  are  spoken  within  our  bor- 
ders, than  ever  Home  compelled  to  subjection.  More  races 
are  here  congregated  than  ever  met  under  the  same  equal 
government.  The  extremes  of  black  and  white  ;  the  Asiatics 
already  swarming  on  our  western  coast ;  the  native  Indians  ; 
and  also  the  Caucasian  in  its  three  leading  varieties  of  Ger- 
man, Celt,  and  Anglo-Saxon ;  and  in  the  midst  of  these  the 
tone  is  given,  the  march  is  led,  by  that  one  of  them  which 
never  yet  has  faltered  a  step  in  its  onward  course,  which  like 
wheat  can  migrate  to  all  climes,  and  is  not  like  rice  con- 
fined to  one,  the  only  race  of  such  tenacity  and  versatility  that 
those  belonging  to  it,  after  the  age  of  thirty,  can  change  their 
abode  and  whole  professional  sphere  and  be  successful, — a 
race  which  combines  the  leading  traits  of  the  ancient  Greeks 
and  Romans,  and  is  animated  by  the  law  and  the  faith  that 
came  from  Judea.  Why  were  these  races  so  brought  to- 
gether as  never  elsewhere,  in  the  long  course  of  human 
history  ? 

And  here  too  are  leading  representatives  of  the  greatest 
moral,  social,  political  and  especially  religious  tendencies, 
out  of  whose  conflicts  the  final  issue  of  human  history  is  to  be 
evolved.  I  speak  not  merelj'of  the  number  of  our  sects,  but 
of  the  great  tendencies  of  our  times.  By  the  very  character 
of  our  government,  and  especially  by  our  separation  of  church 
and  state,  these  tendencies  are  able  to  press  forward  to  their 
ends,  as  nowhere  else. 

These  tendencies  may,  perhaps,  be  classified  as  five:  the 


THE  GKEAT  QUESTION  FOR  US,  121 

Humanitarian,  comprising  the  democratic  and  social  move- 
ments; the  Scientific,  striving  to  subjugate  nature  to  the  ser- 
vice of  man ;  the  Speculative,  whose  aim  is  to  construct  a 
rational  account  of  man's  relations  and  destiny ;  the  Ritual- 
istic, insisting  more  upon  the  external  organization  and  rites ; 
and  the  Evangelical,  instinct  with  the  spiritual  life  of  tlie 
Christian  system.  All  these  tendencies  are  here  earnest, 
alert,  contesting,  stri\ing  for  the  supremacy.  Each  has  its 
men  of  thought,  its  men  of  fire,  its  conscious  aim.  Each  at 
some  points  is  opposed  to  all  the  others  ;  each  at  some  points 
is  forming  alliances  with  the  others. 

The  battle  seems  likely  to  rage  chiefly  between  three — the 
Humanitarian,  the  Ritualistic  and  the  Evangelical,  each  of 
which  has  its  complete  theory,  and  puts  itself  as  the  acme  of 
human  destiny.  The  other  two,  the  Scientific  and  the  Specu- 
lative, must  be  subservient  to  one  of  the  others ;  and  there  are 
simiificant  siicns  of  a  combination  of  these,  with  the  Humani- 
tarian  tendency,  in  opposition  to  both  Ritualism  and  Evan- 
gelical Christianit}',  on  the  basis  of  pantheism.  The  great 
question  for  us  is,  to  whicli  of  these  three  great  powers,  the 
Humanitarian,  the  Ritualistic  or  the  Evangelical,  is  this  land 
to  be  given  ;  which  of  them  offers  the  real,  practical  solution 
to  the  problem  of  human  fate  'i 

The  Ritualistic  tendency  culminates  in  the  Roman  Cath- 
olic pretensions ;  the  Humanitarian  view  makes  the  reor- 
ganization of  society  its  great  end.  The  former  says,  that 
the  end  of  history  is  to  bring  all  mankind  under  the  domin- 
ioTi  of  an  organized  hierarchy,  subject  to  the  See  of  Rome ; 
the  other,  that  that  end  is  to  be  found  in  the  subjugation 
of  nature  to  the  service  of  man  in  a  perfect  social  state. 
The  one  has  its  truth  in  the  idea  of  a  universal  kingdom 
of  Christ,  and  its  falsehood  in  its  ritualism  and  Anti-Chris- 
tian Rapacy,  The  other  has  its  truth  in  the  conceptit)U 
of  a  perfect  social  state,  and  its  falsehood  in  the  denial  of 
Christ's  church,  and  by  some,  even  of  innnortality.  The 
Evano-elical  view  has  the  truth  of  each,  without  the  false- 
hood  of  either.     It   would  bring  all  to  Christ  and  make  hi8 


123     KEFOEMED  CHUKCHES  OF  EUROPE  AND  AMERICA. 

kingdom  to  be  the  perfected  social  state  for  man  here  and 
hereafter. 

Both  of  these  other  tendencies  are  alien  to  our  predom- 
inant spirit  as  a  people  ;  both  are  chiefly  fed  from  foreign 
sources,  the  one  from  tlie  Celtic,  the  other  from  the  Teutonic 
stock  ;  is  it  not  our  destiny  to  receive  and  to  trai>sform  them 
both  by  the  infusion  of  an  Evangelic  Anglo  Saxon  seed? 
The  one  is  Anti-Protestant  in  nature,  the  other  retains  of 
Protestantism  only  its  outer,  human,  political  side.  The  for- 
mer nullifies,  the  latter  deifies,  human  reason  and  human 
rights.  Each  is  opposed  to  the  other ;  both  are  opposed  to 
ns  ;  we  are  to  oppose  both  that  we  may  win  both.  The  one  is 
strong  in  its  reliance  on  the  past,  the  other  courts  tlie  future  ; 
the  one  claims  divine  tradition,  the  other  our  human  sympa- 
tliies.  Both  insist  on  compact  organizations  ;  the  one  tends  to 
a  religious,  the  other  to  a  social  despotism,  merging  the  rights 
of  the  individual.  Philosophy  is  the  idol  of  the  humanitarian, 
the  voice  of  Rome  is  the  oracle  of  his  opponent.  Both  claim 
infallibility,  the  one  of  reason,  the  other  in  the  interpretation 
of  tradition.  Both  have  great  mastery  over  different  phases 
of  the  popular  mind ;  both  give  full  play  to  minds  astute, 
energetic,  politic  and  streimous.  The  last  word  of  the  Roman 
Catholic  is,  the  word  Papacy,  and  it  rallies  its  followers  around 
the  standard  of  Mary  of  the  Immaculate  Conception;  the  last 
word  of  the  Humanitarian  is  the  word  Pantheism,  and  it 
summons  its  hosts  under  the  banner  of  Socialism. 

Is  the  end  of  human  history,  and  of  our  own,  to  be  found 
in  either  of  these,  or,  in  that  reformed  faith,  given  to  our  land 
in  its  earliest  prime,  and  which  has  made  us  strong  enough  to 
receive  and  to  contend  with  these  hostile  powers  ? 

We  would  attempt  no  vain,  we  would  rely  upon  no  human 
prophecy.  We  single  out  no  one  branch  of  the  Reformed 
family  of  churches  as  the  inheritor  of  the  spoils  of  all  time. 
But  this  at  least  may  be  said,  that  in  this  land  the  true  church 
has  ampler  means  for  diffusion  than  anywhere  else,  secured  by 
that  religious  freedom  which  is  our  national  instinct,  the  very 
apple  of  our  eye ;  that  here,  too,  all  the  material  and  social 


THE    FAITH    IN    WHICH    OUE   LAND    AVAS    BAPTIZED.  123 

influences  which  make  the  basis  of  the  state,  may  also  help  on 
the  progress  of  the  Church  ;  and  that  here,  as  yet  predominant 
in  moral  power,  is  that  sublime  system  of  faith,  in  which  our 
land  was  baptized  by  the  blood  of  our  sires,  and  to  which  we 
pray  that  it  may  be  given  by  the  peaceful  victories  of  our 
sons.  It  is  a  faith  which  is  the  soul  of  that  divine  Kingdom 
of  Redemption,  eternal  in  the  counsels  of  God  and  ever  present, 
since  the  fall,  in  the  history  of  man.  It  is  the  oldest  of  tradi- 
tions as  well  as  the  most  living  of  inspirations.  Not  for 
tyranny,  not  for  anarchy,  not  for  the  Papacy,  not  for  panthe- 
ism, was  our  land  planted  and  builded.  But  rather  may  we  be 
animated  by  the  grateful  vision,  that  between  these  foreign 
powers  and  extremes,  the  people  native  to  our  shores,  as  also 
those  with  us  of  all  other  lands  who  imbibe  our  true  spirit, 
gathering  strength  and  unity  from  the  spectacle  both  of  the 
dangers  and  of  the  reward,  shall  advance  in  that  magnificent 
career  set  before  them,  as  never  before  another  people  press- 
ing through  the  hosts  by  which  they  are  on  either  hand  assailed, 
and  subduing  them  both  unto  itself,  the  one  by  the  majesty 
of  divine  truth,  and  the  other  by  the  power  of  its  human 
sympathies.  Thus  may  we  show,  that  there  is  that  which  is 
mightier  than  any  hierarchy,  that  there  is  that  which  is  more 
fitted  to  man's  needs  than  any  merely  social  organization. 
Thus  may  it  be  our  lot  to  combine  and  reconcile  in  one  king- 
dom all  of  divine  authority  and  all  of  human  needs.  Thus 
may  we  prove,  that  the  last  and  best  word  for  the  human  race 
is  not  the  name  of  any  Pope,  is  not  the  ideal  of  any  Panthe- 
ism, but  is  the  name  of  Ilim,  who  is  both  God  and  man,  our 
great  High  Priest  and  Saviour,  to  whom  belong  power  and 
honor,  dominion  and  might,  and  of  whom  it  is  recorded,  in 
the  sure  word  of  that  prophecy  which  never  yet  has  failed, 
that  unto  Tlim  every  knee  shall  bow  and  every  tongue  confess 
that  He  is  Lord,  to  the  glory  of  God  the  Father. 


THE    IDEA    OF 

CHRISTIAN  THEOLOGY  AS   A   SYSTEM/ 


Frieitos  and  Brethren  of  the  Union  Theological 
Seminary  : — It  is  now  eighteen  years  since  our  Institntion 
was  established,  to  provide  the  means  of  a  thorough  theologi- 
cal training,  with  the  special  facilities  which  this  great  coni- 
niunity  present.  Its  founders  called  it  the  "  Union"  Semi- 
nary, "because,"  as  they  said,  "it  was  designed  to  commend 
itself  to  all  men  of  moderate  views  and  feelings,  who  desire 
to  live  free  from  party  strife."  It  stands  upon  the  common 
ground  of  the  larger  Evangelical  Churches  of  our  country, 
the  Westminster  Confession  of  Faith,  which  has  been  here 
inculcated  with  a  filial  but  not  a  blind  devotion  ;  not  in  the 
servility  of  the  letter,  but  in  the  freedom  of  its  real  spirit. 
The  Presbyterian  polity  has  been  tauglit,  but  never  with  a 
sectarian  intent.  Our  beloved  Seminary  has  proved  itself  to 
be  wisely  constituted  ;  its  sons  are  a  brotherhood  dispersed 
all  over  the  earth  ;  our  churches  regard  it  with  increasing 
favor;  and  the  Great  Head  of  the  church  has  given  to  us  in 
unwonted  measure  that  missionary  spirit,  which  is  a  pledge 
of  His  real  presence,  since  it  fulfils  His  last  command. 

Five  years  ago  you  called  me  to  the  chair  of  Church  His- 
tory, and  now  you  invest  me  with  the  functions  of  a  tea(;her 
of  Systematic  Theology,  Would  that  I  might  carry  into  this 
nev/  positi<m    the   s]urit   which  animated   my  predecessors; 

*  Inaugural  Address  delivered  on  occasion  of  his  induction  into  the  chair 
of  Systematic  Theology  in  the  Union  Theological  Seminary,  New  York, 
Sabbath  evening,  May  6,  1855. 


126         THE    roEA    OF    CHRISTIAN   THEOLOGY    AS    A    SYSTEM. 

somethino-  of  tlie  keenness  and  faithfulness  of  the  lamented 
Dr.  White,  as  well  as  the  various  learning  and  true  Christian 
liberality  of  him  whom  I  immediately  succeed.* 

The  two  departments  which  I  thus  successively  fill  are  truly 
kindred  to  each  otlier.  They  should  ever  go  hand  in  hand. 
The  most  diligent  investigation  of  Christian  History  is  one 
of  the  best  incentives  to  the  wisest  study  of  Christian  The- 
ology. The  plan  of  God  is  the  substance  of  both ;  for  all 
historic  time  is  but  a  divine  theodicy ;  God's  providence  is 
its  law,  God's  glory  is  its  end.  Theology  divorced  from  his- 
tory runs  out  into  Imre  abstractions ;  histoiy  separated  from 
theoloo-v  becomes  naturalistic  or  humanitarian  merelv.  The 
marriage  of  the  two  makes  theology  more  real  and  liistory  to 
1)6  sacred.  In  God's  Book  they  are  fused  ;  its  theology  glows 
with  historic  life;  truth  and  fact,  light  and  life  are  blended. 
God  reveals  himself  in  historic  facts.  All  history  and  all 
theology  meet  in  the  person  of  the  God-man,  our  Saviour. 
The  life  of  liistory  and  the  light  of  theology  should  ever  go 
together,  as  an  early  Christian  apologist  said,  "  Life  is  not 
]'eal  without  knowledge,  nor  is  knowledge  safe  without  life ; 
they  must  be  planted  together  like  the  trees  of  Paradise."  f 

Among  the  wisest  and  best  of  our  own  and  other  lands, 
there  is  a  strong  reaction  from  that  extreme  subjective  and 
rationalistic  tendency,  which  sneered  at  the  history  it  was 
ignorant  of,  and  never  spoke  of  the  ancient  creeds  and  of  the 
symbols  of  the  Reformation  but  in  disparagement.  We  are 
witnessing  the  resurrection  of  this  sacred  legacy  ;  the  vener- 
able Augsburg  Confession  was  readopted  two  years  since,  by 
as  thoughtful  a  body  as  ever  met  in  Germany.  In  the  midst 
of  our  own  contending  factions,  many  are  pondering  the  wiser 
formulas  which  avoid  our  abstract  extremes.  The  old  faith 
and  the  new  philosophy,  both,  indeed,  have  their  rights  ;  the 
struggle  of  all  times  between  the  conservative  and  the  pro- 
gressive, will  doubtless  continue  until  the  wealth  of  eternity 


*  The  Rev.  James  P.  Wilson,  D.D.,  the  eminpnt  pastor  of  the  South  Park 
Church,  Newark,  N.  J. — Ed.  f  Epistola  ad  Diognetum. 


THE    OLD    AND    NEW    IN    OHEISTIxiN    THEOLOGY.  127 

shall  become  the  heritage  of  time.  The  real  question  is, 
whether  the  whole  of  the  past  can  be  so  wrought  into  the  life 
of  the  present,  as  to  become  the  guarantee  of  the  future. 
Bare  external  tradition  is  lifeless :  the  utterly  new  is  form- 
less ;  what  we  need  is  eternal  and  historic  truth  born  fresh  in 
the  living  soul.  "Not  fixedness  nor  revolution,"  says  Ull- 
mann,  "  but  evolution  and  reform  *'  is  the  motto  for  our  times. 
Paul  argued,  that  Christianity  was  older  than  the  Judaism 
which  it  supplanted.  The  early  Christian  fathers  contended, 
that  Christianity  is  both  old  and  new.  If  its  truths  are  not 
unchangeable,  then  they  are  not  of  God  :  if  they  are  not  un- 
folded and  applied  only  in  successive  stadia,  they  are  not  for 
man.  The  perfect  transmutation  of  that  trutli  which  is  ever 
old  into  that  life  which  is  ever  new,  is  the  problem  of  history 
and  the  triumph  of  Christianity.* 

Thus  is  it  also  with  Christian  Theology.  Its  life  must  be 
from  above,  and  its  roots  in  the  past,  if  it  is  to  bear  those 
leaves,  which  are  for  the  healing  of  the  nations.  Every  vital 
system  has  received  its  substance  from  the  Scriptures,  which 
are  to  us  the  source  and  test  of  divine  truth ;  its  historical 
connections  have  been  with  the  received  symbols;  and  the 
philosophical  speculations  of  the  times  have  given  it  shaj^e. 
Scriptural  divinity  becomes  historical,  and  historical  theology 
becomes  systematic.  To  combine  and  reconcile  these  three, 
the  AVord  of  God,  historical  divinity,  and  philosophical  truth, 
is  the  great  problem  of  scientific  theology.     It  will  find  its 

*  The  conflict  between  the  conservative  and  progrei5sive  elements  in 
Christian  Theology,  as  in  other  sciences,  runs  back  into  the  two  positions ; 
that  all  fundamental  religious  truth  is  eternal  and  immutable  ;  and,  that 
this  eternal  truth  is  revealed  and  appropriated,  only  by  successive  stages  in 
the  history  of  the  world.  Eternal  verity  enters  into  the  processes  of  historic 
growth.  The  Scriptures  contain  that  verity ;  the  history  of  the  church  is 
its  gradual  appropriation  by  the  human  race.  This  is  the  view  even  of  the 
old  Christian  apologists  of  the  second  and  third  centuries.  Thus  Arnobius 
says:  "  If  the  antiquity  of  authors  be  required,  ours  is  that  of  God  him- 
self." And  Eusebius,  speaking  of  the  accusation,  that  Christianity  was  a 
new  religion,  adds,  "  So  much  the  greater  marvel,  that  it  has  already  sub- 
dued the  earth."  Comi^are  other  citations,  in  Bolton's  ''  Evidences,"  a 
valuable  colleccion  of  the  arguments  of  the  early  apologists. 


128  THE    IDEA    OF    CHRISTIAN    TUEOLOGA'    AS   A    SA'STEM:. 

solution  when  the  whole  of  Scripture  shall  be  reproduced  in 
the  history  of  the  church,  and  shaped  by  a  wise  philosop)hy, 
under  the  light  of  the  central  idea  of  God's  own  revelation. 
And  a  system  thus  constructed,  will  be  adapted  to  the  two 
great  ends  of  scientific  theology,  the  advancement  of  the 
science  itself,  and  practical  use  in  the  service  of  the  church 
and  ministry. 

So  far  as  the  limits  of  the  hour  allow,  let  me  invite  your 
thoughts  to  the  subject  which  the  occasion  demands,  and  to 
which  these  remarks  tend  ;  that  is,  the  Idea  of  Christian 
Theology  as  a  System.  It  will  be  my  object  to  attempt  an  ex- 
position and  vindication  of  the  true  conception  of  Systematic 
Theology,  with  its  application  to  some  existing  controversies 
and  speculations. 

What  is  the  radical  idea  of  Christian  Theology  as  a  science  ? 
How  is  it  distinguished  from  other  departments  of  truth, 
natural,  ethical,  or  metaphysical  ? 

In  answering  this  inquiry  in  the  way  of  description,  and  not 
yet  of  stricter  definition,  it  may  be  said,  that  Christian  Theol- 
ogy is  the  exposition  of  the  facts  of  a  divine  i-evelation.  This 
is  its  special  characteristic.  It  has  to  do  with  a  real,  extant 
econom}^,  with  objective  realities,  as  much  as  the  natural  or 
social  sciences.  Its  ultimate  ground  is  above  and  beyond 
nature:  but  this  supernatural  has  been  made  manifest  in  an 
historical  and  recorded  revelation.  -The  original  ray  of  super- 
nal light  has  broken  upon  our  earth,  irradiating  it  with  seven- 
fold forms  of  beauty,  which  are  our  blessing,  and  which  we 
are  to  study,  if  we  would  know  the  nature  of  the  light.  The 
theologian  is  to  be  "  deep  in  the  books  of  God,''  as  the  natur- 
alist in  the  book  of  nature ;  both  are  to  divest  themselves 
of  fancy  and  to  become  interpreters;  each  studies  a  realm 
independent  of  him  in  its  original,  its  facts,  and  its  laws. 
The  science  of  nature  has  advanced  apace  because  its  eminent 
explorers  have  studied  that  kingdom  with  an  humble  and 
reverential  spirit;  they  have  reported  the  visions  and  marvels 
which  the  telescope  has  descried  in  the  sublimities  of  space, 
and  the  microscope  unveiled  in  the  most  delicate  structures. 


CHRISTIAN    REALISM.  129 

And  one  of  the  reasons — is  it  not  so  ?  why  theology  has  been 
less  fruitful,  is,  that  we  study  ethics  and  not  divinity,  our  own 
wills,  and  not  the  will  of  God,  and  expect  in  psychology  to 
find  the  kingdom  of  God.  But  the  registry  of  God's  wisdom 
is  in  his  own  revelation. 

An  unreal  spiritualism  makes  man  the  measure  of  all 
things,  and  decries  an  historical  and  recorded  revelation. 
It  would  evolve  all  truth  out  of  man's  unillurained  reason. 
But  the  idealism  of  Berkeley  would  be  as  adequate  an  oi-ganon 
for  the  study  of  nature,  as  such  a  subjective  Christianity  for 
the  study  of  theolog^^  The  valid  being  of  nature  is  presup- 
posed by  the  naturalist ;  the  historical  reality  of  Christianity 
is  at  the  basis  of  Christian  theology.  Neither  nature  nor 
Christianity  "  borrows  leave  to  be  "  from  human  reason  or 
from  human  wants. 

There  is,  if  we  may  use  the  phrase,  a  Christian  realism, 
which  is  the  life  of  theology.  All  things  are  made  according 
to  the  pattern  in  the  mount.  All  that  is,  according  to  the 
Calvinistic  system,  pre-existed  in  tlie  divine  mind  in  idea  and 
purpose.  All  true  knowledge  is  a  participation  in  these  ideas. 
All  our  theology  has  its  ground  in  the  imperisliable  facts  and 
truths  of  the  Christian  economy,  pre-existent  in  the  divine 
mind,  having  an  objective  reality  and  validity,  and  i-evealed, 
not  in  words  alone,  but  in  deeds  and  in  power,  and  by  the 
riol}^  Ghost.  To  speak  in  the  profound  words  ascribed  to 
one  of  Britain's  almost  unknown  poets, 

"  Words  are  men's  daughters,  but  God's  sons  are  things."  * 

The  perpetual  Providence  of  God  the  Father,  the  Incarnation 
and  Redemption  of  Christ  the  Son,  Regeneration  and  Sancti- 

*  This  line  is  found  in  Dr.  Madden's  •'  Boulter's  Monument,"  a  poem, 
published  in  Dublin  in  1745,  revised  by  Dr.  Johnson.  Mr.  Croker  says, 
"  Dr.  Madden  wrote  very  bad  verses.  The  few  lines  in  'Boulter's  Monu- 
ment,' which  rise  above  mediocrity  may  be  attributed  to  Johnson."  Mr. 
Jas.  Crossley,  in  "  Notes  and  Queries,"  vol.  iii.  p.  154,  thinks  this  line  must 
be  from  Johnson,  and  says,  that  it  is  in  allusion  to  Genesis  vi.  24.  But  the 
only  allusion  is  in  the  two  words,  "sons"  and  "daughters;  "  the  idea  is 
quite  different. 


130         THE    IDEA    OF    CHRISTIAN    THEOLOGY    AS    A    SYSTEM. 

ficatlon  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  Church  and  its  Sacraments  ' 
these  are  not  mere  abstract  truths,  they  are  truths  of  fact 
the  intellect  can  never  learn  them  by  definitions  alone,  the 
whole  soul  knows  them  through  revelation  and  experience. 
Unless  thi-s  be  so,  our  theology  is  not  the  ally,  but  the  victim 
of  philosoph}' ;  it  is  but  a  rope  of  sand,  though  it  look  as 
strong  as  a  cable  and  be  as  fine  as  the  wire-drawn  steel.  The 
spirit  of  nominalism,  resting  in  words  and  definitions,  eats  out 
the  core  of  theology  ;  appealing  only  to  the  intellect,  it  cannot 
maintain  itself  against  either  naturalism  or  pantheism,  for 
with  both  of  these,  woi'ds  are  but  symbols  of  realities.  "  The 
lip,"  says  Shakespeare,  "  is  parcel  of  the  mind  ; "  and  in  all 
valid  theology,  each  doctrine  is  parcel  of  the  objective.  Chris- 
tian system.  You  cannot  cut  off  a  twig  from  a  tree,  and  bid  it 
bud,  and  blossom,  and  rejoice.  If  we  lose  the  inward  sense 
of  the  reality  of  God's  kingdom  in  Christ,  as  our  basis,  our 
theology  is  a  mere  system  of  intellectual  philosophy,  and  poor 
at  that;  its  divinity  is  all  gone;  regeneration  is  an  act  of 
human  choice  ;  the  atonement  becomes  an  expedient  or  a 
spectacle  ;  justification  is  making  just  or  pardon  ;  union  with 
Christ  is  first  a  fiVure  and  then  a  fio-ment ;  the  Church  is  a 
voluntary  society,  and  not  the  body  of  Christ :  and  theology 
is  on  the  high  road  to  humanitarianism. 

Even  Plato  might  teach  us  better  wisdom  ;  for  there  ran 
among  the  Greeks,  says  Ficinus,  a  proverb,  that  lie  had  three 
eyes  ;  one  for  natural  things,  one  for  human,  and  the  third 
for  divine  realities,  which  last  was  in  his  forehead,  the  others 
being  under  it.  This  spiritual  vision  is  the  first  and  last  re- 
quisite of  the  Christian  student,  who  would  read  the  things 
of  the  Kingdom  of  God,  which  the  natural  man  knoweth  not, 
which  are  only  spiritually  discerned. 

Such  is  the  general  basis  of  Christian  theology :  it  is  an 
exposition  of  the  realities  of  a  divine  revelation.  What  are, 
now,  the  interior  traits  of  the  system  itself,  M'hicli  give  it  the 
character  of  a  real  science  ? 

Theology  begins,  when  men  begin  to  reflect  upon  religion  : 
it  is  the  science  of  religion ;  religion  is  the  subject  of  which 


MAN    A    KELIGIOUS    BEING.  131 

theology  is  the  science.  Christian  theology  is  the  science  of 
the  Christian  religion;  to  construct  a  system  of  Christian 
theology  we  must  know  the  essential  idea  of  the  Christian 
religion.  Three  inquiries,  then,  here  demand  our  considera- 
tion :  What  is  religion  ?  AVhat  is  the  Christian  religion  ? 
What  is  the  science  of  the  Christian  religion  ? 

A  well-nigh  universal  experience  affirms  that  man  is  a 
religious  being.  Only  a  matei'ialistic  philosophy  can  ascribe 
religion  to  external  influences  alone  or  chiefly.  Calvin  says : 
"  We  put  it  beyond  controversy,  that  there  is  in  the  human 
heart,  by  natural  instinct,  a  sense  of  divinity,  which  cannot 
be  destroyed."  "Atheism,"  declares  Nitzsch,  "is  the  attempt 
not  to  be  religious."  Men  are  impelled  to  worship,  as  they 
are  to  society,  more  than  they  are  to  science,  art,  or  culture. 
And  all  religion  implies  a  sense  of  dependence  on  a  higher 
power,  and  of  obligation  to  its  behests.  Its  etymology  teaches 
us,  that  it  binds  the  soul.*  Plato  calls  it  a  "  likeness  to  God, 
according  to  our  measure."  It  includes  in  its  true  idea,  both 
the  vision  and  the  love  of  deity.  It  demands  the  highest 
energy  of  all  our  powers  of  intellect,  heart  and  will ;  and  be- 
cause the  highest  and  combined  exercise  of  all  our  powers  is 
only  in  religion,  we  say  that  mail  was  made  to  be  religious. 
Union  between  the  soul  and  God  is,  then,  the  essence  of  re- 
ligion, communion  of  the  soul  with  God  is  its  expression. 
And  here  is  the  specific  difference  of  religion  from  ethics, 
science,  or  art.  Without  the  divine  presence  in  the  soul,  real 
religion  is  as  impossible  as  were  flame  without  fuel. 

Union  and  communion  with  deity  must,  then,  be  also  in- 
cluded in  the  idea  of  the  Christian  religion.  But  to  answer 
our  second  inquiry,  What  is  the  specific  idea  of  Christianity  ? 
we  need  to  know  how  it  is  distinguishable  from  all  other 
modes  of  worship.  What  makes  it  the  perfect  religion  for 
mankind. 

This  idea,  now,  cannot  lawfully  be  taken  from  ethical  or 

*  Lactantius  lust.,  ii. ,  10.  Hoc  vinculo  pietatis  obstricti  Deo  et  religati 
sumus,  unde  ipsa  religio  uomen  accepit,  non,  lit  Cicero  interpretatus  est,  a 
relegendo. 


132  THE   IDEA.    OF    CHRISTIAN    THEOLOGY    AS    A    SYSTEM. 

intellectual  philosophy,  nor  from  anything  outside  of  Christi- 
anity itself,  annexed  to  it  or  imposed  npon  it.  The  scientific 
botanist  classifies  the  plants  only  by  their  intei-nal  structure. 
This  idea  must  give  us  some  real  principle,  some  truth  of  fact, 
involved  in  the  very  being  of  Christianity.  It  must,  so  to 
speak,  be  the  soul  of  the  body  of  divinity.  It  must  enable  us 
to  define  the  inherent  nature  of  Christianity  by  its  ultimate 
ends,  for  thus  only  do  we  truly  know  any  science  or  being. 
If  tlie  Christian  system  have  such  a  principle,  then  we  may 
have  a  science  of  Christian  theology :  if  it  have  not,  then 
systematic  divinity  must  lack  the  strfctest  unity  and  method. 

The  salient  aspect  of  Christian  faith  in  Scripture  and  in 
history,  is  one  and  simple.  It  is  the  religion  of  Redemption. 
Its  great  end  or  object  is  to  provide  redemption  for  an  apostate 
race,  else  exposed  to  remediless  woes.  It  proposes  to  restore 
that  union  with  God  which  was  lost  l)y  the  fall.  There  is  the 
first  Adam,  the  head  of  our  ruin  ;  and  there  is  also  the  second 
Adam,  the  head  of  our  redem]3tion.  That  God  is  in  Christ, 
reconciling  the  world  unto  himself — this  is  the  keynote  of  the 
Christian  dispensation,  its  luminous  and  life-giving  message. 
All  religion  is  the  union  between  man  and  God:  the  Christian 
religion  is  a  reunion,  a  reinstated  fellowship,  a  redemption. 

And  this  redemption  centres  in  the  person  and  work  of 
Christ,  the  one  mediator  between  God  and  man.  In  his  medi- 
ation is,  then,  to  be  found  the  central  principle  of  this  divine 
economy.  It  may  be  called  the  Mediatorial  principle,  for 
mediation  between  a  holy  God  and  sinful  man  is  the  essence 
of  his  work  :  or  it  may  be  termed  the  Christological  principle, 
as  it  represents  to  us  the  person  of  Christ,  the  God-man.  In 
its  fullest  statement  it  includes  both  incarnation  and  redemp- 
tion ;  for  both  as  incarnate  and  as  redeeming,  Christ  is  our 
Mediator.  In  the  fact  of  the  incarnation  of  the  Son  of  God 
for  our  Redemption,  may  be  said  to  be  the  grand  principle 
of  the  Christian  faith,  its  centre  of  unity.  He  was  made  like 
unto  us,  that  he  might  be  a  merciful  and  faithful  high  priest, 
in  things  pertaining  to  God,  to  make  reconciliation  for  the 
sins- of  the  people. — Ileb.  ii.  17. 


THE   CROSS    THE    CENTRE    OF    HUMAN    HISTORY.  133 

This  principle  gives  lis  tlie  specific  idea  of  the  Christian 
system  as  distinguished  from  other  religions  and  from  mere 
ethics.  Here  it  is  on  its  independent  basis,  as  a  rock,  as  a 
tower,  as  a  refuge,  as  the  city  of  our  God.  It  gives  us  a  fact 
and  not  a  theory,  a  person  and  not  an  abstract  doctrine. 
And  it  has  for  itself  an  unrivalled  fulness  and  consent  of 
testimony. 

ITeathenisra  bears  witness  to  it ;  for,  when  "  religion  grew 
rank  on  pagan  soil,"  *  there  glimmered  through  all  its  idol- 
atries and  sacrifices  a  strange,  unearthly  light,  wandering  in 
the  fitful  search  for  an  Incarnate  Saviour.  Here,  too,  the 
Jewish  faith  has  the  substance  of  its  ceremonial  shadows,  its 
anti-type;  and,  as  has  been  finely  said,  "  its  spirit  of  prophecy 
expired  with  the  Gospel  on  its  tongue."  The  Scriptures  have 
a  wonderful  unity,  for  all  its  books  give  us  the  one  person  of 
our  Lord.  Human  history  has  no  other  centre  of  convergence 
and  divergence  than  the  cross  on  Calvary,  and  no  other  pro- 
phetic end  than  the  kingdom  of  Immanuel ;  and  thus  is 
Christ  the  life  of  all  history.  The  profoundest  exjierience 
of  the  human  soul  utters  itself  in  one  song  of  divinest  melody, 
where,  in  the  words  of  a  Father  of  the  church,  "  there  is  music, 
not  indeed  according  to  the  measure  of  Terpander,  but  in  the 
eternal  measure  of  a  new  harmony  of  the  new  name  of  God.""!* 
Philosophy  in  its  highest  expounders  bows  to  the  idea,  when 
not  to  the  fact  of  Redemption  by  an  Incai-nation ;  Hegel 
avows,  that  Christianity,  in  the  doctrines  of  the  Trinity  and 
the  union  of  the  finite  with  the  infinite,  has  the  essential  ele- 
ments of  speculation;  and  Schelling  confesses,  that  "the  In- 
carnation is  the  principle  of  all  philosophy."  All  vital  theo- 
logical systems,  as  they  are  based  in  the  Trinity,  so  do  they 
centre  in  the  mediation  of  Christ.  Consciously  or  uncon- 
sciously they  pursue  that  plan  which  makes  the  Trinity  the 
foundation,  each  separate  truth  a  column,  each  connecting 
truth  an  arch,  and  Christ  the  dome  that  crowns  the  whole. 


*  Schelling,  cited  in  Neander's  Church  History,  i.,  176. 
•)■  Clement  of  Alexandria. 


134         THE    IDEA    OF    CHRISTIAN    THEOLOGY    AS    A    SYSTEM. 

while  the  work  of  the  Holj  Spirit,  like  the  ascending  spire, 
leads  us  towards  heaven.  In  the  jarring  creeds,  the  name  of 
Jesus  is  the  one  celestial  language  amid  the  terrestrial  dia- 
lects; it  gives  the  universal  tradition — quod  semper,  quod 
ubique,  quod  ab  omnibus  creditum  est.  What  religious  prin- 
ciple, what  idea  has  a  parallel  supremacy  and  authority  ! 
Thus  does  history  confess,  that  there  is  one  God,  and  one 
Mediator  between  God  and  man,  the  man  Christ  Jesus. 

The  most  accomplished  of  England's  comparative  anatom- 
ists. Professor  Owen,  has  shown  that  the  same  type  runs 
through  all  the  gradations  of  structure  in  the  animal  king- 
dom, which  are  but  modifications  of  one  and  the  same  funda- 
mental form.  He  hence  infers,  that  a  divine  mind  must  have 
planned  the  archetype.  "  Guided,"  he  says,  "  by  this  arche- 
typal light,  nature  has  advanced  with  slow  and  steady  steps 
amid  the  wreck  of  worlds,  from  the  first  embodiment  of  the 
vertebrate  idea,  under  its  old  ichthyic  vestment,  until  it  became 
arrayed  in  the  glorious  garb  of  the  human  form."  The  anal- 
ogy holds,  with  surpassing  cogency  and  completeness,  of  the 
central  idea  of  the  Christian  system  and  of  its  divine  author- 
ship. The  j^earnings  of  Paganism,  the  struggles  of  histoiy, 
the  contests  of  the  schools,  are  but  immature  and  anticipatory 
efforts  to  realize  that  idea  of  Mediation  through  an  Incarna- 
tion, which  came  to  its  perfect  embodiment  in  the  person  of 
Christ.  This  is  the  archetypal  idea  by  whose  light  alone  we 
may  read  the  spiritual  history  of  our  race.  And  it  is  as  im- 
possible that  man  could  have  invented  this  idea,  the  inner 
law  and  life  of  his  history,  as  it  is  that  each  animal  could 
have  made  his  own  structure  and  all  animals  their  analogous 
structures.     It  is  God's  idea,  for  which  the  race  was  made. 

Such  is  the  mediatorial  principle  of  the  Christian  system, 
its  distinguishing  characteristic,  centering  in  Christ  crucified 
for  our  sins,  according  to  the  Scripture.  And  having  thub 
attempted  to  answer  the  two  inquiries,  as  to  the  nature  of 
religion,  and  of  the  Christian  religion,  we  are  led  to  our  third 
question,  What  is  the  science  of  the  Christian  religion? 
What  is  the  idea  of  Christian  theology  as  a  system  ?     If  we 


MEDIATORIAL    PRINCIPLE    OF    TUE    CIIKISTIAN    SYSTKM.      135 

are  correct  in  the  statements  already  made  as  to  the  nature 
of  the  Christian  religion,  then  we  must  here  say,  that  Christian 
theology  is  that  exposition  of  the  Christian  faith,  in  which  all 
its  membei-s  are  referred  to  the  Mediatorial  principle  as  their 
centre  of  unity  and  bond  of  cohesion. 

Each  distinct  science  has  some  supreme  principle  to  which 
its  subordinate  classifications  are  referred  :  it  becomes  a  science 
only  when  it  has  seized  its  central  idea.  The  whole  course 
of  the  history  of  theology  may  be  regarded  as  a  series  of  at- 
tempts to  obtain  such  a  principle,  as  an  independent  basis. 
It  began  with  rude  generalizations.  The  doctrines  of  the  Bible 
were  discussed  in  successive  portions,  coming  out  for  fifteen 
hundred  years,  almost  in  the  order  of  systematic  theology ; 
the  whole  history  of  Christian  doctrine  is,  so  to  speak,  one 
consecutive  body  of  divinity.*  The  simple  creeds  of  the  early 
church  are  perhaps  to  be  referred  back  to  the  baptismal 
formula  as  their  common  origin  ;  in  them  history  and  doctrine 
are  blended.  Augustine,  in  his  "  City  of  God,"  attempts  a 
more  comprehensive  view  ;  John  of  Damascus,  in  the  eighth 
century,  sums  up  in  a  rude  compilation  the  theological  move- 
ment of  the  Greek  Church  in  his  "  Exposition."  The 
"  Master  of  Sentences"  in  the  twelfth  century,  made  a  scien- 
tific digest  of  the  Latin  tradition,  which  became  the  basis  of  the 
scholastic  systems,  that  reached  their  acme  in  the  "  Summa" 
of  Aquinas,  a  w^ork  still  unsurpassed  in  mere  logical  arrange- 
ment and  distinctions,  and  fitly  compared  to  a  Gothic  cathe- 
dral. The  method  followed  in  these  systems  w^as  the  logical, 
proceeding  from  the  more  general  to  the  more  concrete  sub- 
jects, united  with  the  topical,  which  states  each  doctrine  in  a 
distinct  form,  according  to  the  tradition  of  the  church. 

*  The  order  of  these  discussions,  by  which  the  conteuts  of  the  Scriptures 
were  reproduced  in  the  living  consciousness  of  the  church,  was,  first  the 
doctrines  of  the  Trinity,  and  the  Incarnation,  giving  the  basis  of  theology  ; 
then,  the  relations  of  human  nature  to  divine  grace,  in  the  Pelagian  contro- 
versy; next  the  work  of  Christ,  in  Anselm's  treatise;  then,  the  systematiz- 
ing of  the  results  in  the  scholastic  systems ;  while,  in  the  Reformation  cen- 
tury, the  doctrines  of  justification  by  faith,  and  the  doctrine  respecting  the 
nature  of  the  church,  fitly  crowned  and  concluded  the  series. 


136  TJIE    IDEA    OF    ClIEISTIAN    THEOLOGY    AS    A    SYSTEM. 

Such  was  the  legacy  wLicli  the  middle  ages  bequeathed  to 
the  Refoniiatioii  in  systematic  theology.  But  the  inductive 
soon  began  to  complete  and  supplant  the  logical  metliod.  The 
Keforniers  went  back  to  the  original  source  of  the(;logy,  in  the 
Divine  Word.  Faith  in  Christ  is  the  soul  of  Protestantism, 
and  the  person  and  work  of  Christ  the  real  centre  of  its  the- 
ology, which  came  to  its  fullest  expression  in  the  doctrine  of 
justification  by  faith  alone.  It  was,  however,  in  the  Dutch 
Reformed  school  that  the  traditional  method  was  first  thor- 
oughly superseded  by  the  theology  of  the  covenants,  which, 
though  pressed  to  some  unscriptural  conclusions,  marring  the 
fulness  of  grace,  did  yet  grasp  the  idea  of  systematic  theology 
with  a  firmer  hand,  and  applied  one  central  notion,  that  of 
the  Covenants^  to  all  parts  of  divinity.*  With  the  logical  it 
combined  the  historical  method,  following  tlie  order  of  the 
divine  dispensations,  though  in  some  of  its  extremes  it  subor- 
dinated both  logic  and  history  to  the  covenants.  It  put  Cal- 
viuistic  theology,  as  a  system,  far  in  advance  of  all  others. 
And  hence  its  influence,  even  upon  politics  and  government, 
in  the  ideas  of  compact  and  federal  union.  The  Westmin- 
ster Confession  felt  its  power,  though  it  has  also  a  freer 
method. 

•In  reaction  from  a  too  exclusive  theoi'y  of  divine  sovereignty, 
others  begin  their  systems  in  the  reverse  order,  with  man 
rather  than  God,  sometimes  making  God  to  be  but  an  in- 
definite extension  of  man,  and  theology  a  mere  adaptation  to 
human  wants.  Schleiermacher  makes  the  Christian  conscious- 
ness the  source  of  all  theology.  Some  follow  simply  the  order 
of  a  creed  or  catechism.  Speculative  minds,  like  Leydecker 
and  Marlieinecke,  fiud  in  the  idea  of  the  Trinity  the  basis  of 
the  arrangement,  separating  the  persons  in  a  too  mai'ked 
manner.  Others,  again,  give  us  a  mere  ethical  theory  as  the 
beginning  and  end  of  theology,  which  has  led  many  to  deny 
all  system,  excepting  a  convenient  classification  of  proof  texts, 
without  any  internal  method. 

*  Compare  Ebrard,  Dogmatik,  I.,  and  Schweizer,  I. ,  ''  Ceutral-Dogmen." 


THE    ANTECEDENTS    OF    EEDEIVIPTION.  137 

These  cursory  historical  statements  may  serve  to  make  it 
apparent  that  the  course  of  Christian  theology  has  been  a 
constant  search  after  an  independent  principle  and  basis ;  and, 
also,  that  no  system  can  stand  in  a  just  relation  to  historical 
theology,  unless  it  combine  the  logical  and  historical  methods 
in  subserviency  to  some  one  overmastering  idea,  which  shall 
give  unity  to  these  methods  and  to  the  system  itself.  The 
logical  order  demands  that  we  proceed  from  the  general  to 
the  concrete ;  the  historical,  that  we  follow  the  course  of  the 
divine  dispensations;  the  organic  method  combines  these, 
with  a  reference  of  all  parts  of  the  system  to  its  centre  of 
unity. 

The  mediatorial  principle  of  the  Christian  religion  is  this 
centre  of  unity:  it  enables  us  to  combine  the  advantages  of 
both  the  logical  and  historical  methods  with  a  stricter  unity 
than  either  or  both  can  give.  For,  to  Christ,  as  Mediator,  all 
parts  of  theology  equally  refer.  lie  is  both  God  and  man, 
and  also  the  Redeemer.  The  logical  antecedents  of  his  me- 
diation are,  therefore,  the  doctrine  respecting  God,  the  doc- 
trine respecting  Man,  the  Fall,  and  consequent  need  of  Re- 
demption, as  also  that  Triune  constitution  of  the  Godhead, 
which  alone,  so  far  as  we  can  conceive,  makes  Redemption 
by  an  Incarnation  to  be  possible.  Thus  we  have  the  first 
division  of  the  theological  system,  the  Antecedents  of  Re- 
demption, which  is  also  first  in  both  the  logical  and  historical 
order.  Its  second  and  central  portion  can  only  be  found  in 
the  Person  and  Work  of  Christ,  his  one  Person  uniting 
humanity  with  divinity,  in  the  integrity  of  both  natures, 
adapting  him  to  his  one  superhuman  Work,  as  our  prophet, 
jjriest,  and  king,  making  such  satisfaction  for  sin,  that  God 
can  be  just  and  justify  every  one  that  believeth ;  and  this 
second  division  of  the  system  follows  the  first  in  both  the 
logical  and  historical  order,  giving  the  peculiar  office  of  the 
Second  Person  of  the  Godhead,  the  Purchase  of  Redemption, 
the  Christology  of  theology.  And  in  like  manner  the  same 
mediatorial  idea  passes  over  into  the  third  and  last  division  of 
the  system  which  treats,  in  projjer  logical  and  historical  order. 


138  THE   IDEA    OF    CHRISTIAN    THEOLOGY    AS    A    SYSTEM. 

of  the  application  of  the  redemption  that  is  in  Christ,  to  the 
Individual,  to  the  Church,  and  to  the  History  and  final  Su- 
premacy of  the  Kingdom  of  God  both  in  time  and  eternity. 
Union  with  Christ  through  the  Holy  Spirit  is  here  the 
dominant  fact ;  his  Union  with  the  Individual,  whence  justi- 
fication, regeneration,  and  sanctification,  for  our  life  is  hid 
with  Christ  in  God  ;  liis  Union  with  the  Church,  which  is  his 
body,  here,  as  Gerhard  says,  "  like  Christ  subjected  to  the 
cross  that  it  may  in  the  future  life  with  him  be  glorified." 
And  this  scheme  of  divine  realities,  and  not  of  mere  abstract 
doctrine,  is  ultimately  to  be  referred  to  the  counsel  of  Illm, 
of  whom,  through  whom,  and  to  whom  are  all  things.  It 
gives  us  the  true  end  of  God  in  creation,  which  can  only  be, 
in  any  profound  philosophical,  not  to  say  theological  aspect, 
the  making  the  essential  glory  of  the  Triune  God  to  be  extant 
and  manifest  in  space  and  time,  in  a  system  which  subordi- 
nates happiness  to  holiness  and  man  to  God. 

When  we  thus  claim  that  the  central  idea  of  the  Christian 
system,  which  binds  its  parts  together  in  a  living  unity,  is  to 
be  found  only  in  Christ,  we  do  not  of  course  mean  that  this 
is  a  principle  in  the  sense  that  the  rest  of  the  system  is  to  be 
logically  deduced  from  it,  as  when  in  mathematics  from  the 
definition  of  a  circle  all  deductions  about  it  are  derived  ;  nor 
yet,  that  in  the  order  of  time  Christ  precedes  all ;  but  simply, 
that  the  mediatorial  principle  is  the  centre  of  unity  to  the 
system,  to  speak  with  Nitzsch,*  "  its  middle  term."  We  mean 
that  all  parts  of  theology,  as  already  indicated,  can  be  best 
arranged  by  its  light ;  all  that  goes  before  leads  to  it,  all  that 
'  comes  after  is  its  application.  In  redemption  prepared,  pur- 
chased, and  applied,  we  have  the  whole  of  Christian  theology. 

*  System  der  christlichen  Lehre,  §  56,  s.  116.  "  Wir  nennen  dalier  die 
Einheit  dieses  Systems  einen  Mittelbegiiff  d.  h.  einen  solchen,  der  zunachst 
auf  a^ewisse  Vorassetzungen  fiihrt  ehe  er  eine  Auseinandersetzung  zulasst." 
The  knowledge  of  the  Trinity,  he  says,  has  its  root  in  the  knowledge  of  the 
Son  of  God,  although  Christ  himself  can  be  known  only  through  the  prelim- 
inary knowledge  of  God,  "a  relation  always  recognized,  but  never  fully 
drawn  out  among  Christian  divines." 


INFLUENCE    OF   THE    MEDIATORIAL   PRINCIPLE.  139 

The  mediatorial  principle  is  the  constitutive  and  regulative 
idea  of  the  whole  system.  It  is  as  flexure  to  the  joints,  as 
marrow  to  the  bones,  as  life  to  an  organism,  as  man's  spirit 
to  man's  body,  as  God's  spirit  to  the  universe. 

Spiritus  intus  alit,  totamque  infusa  per  artus 
Mens  agitat  molem. 

It  makes  theology  living.  It  is  a  principle  whi(;h  is  also  a 
fact,  as  really  as  the  principle  of  life  is  also  a  fact  in  all  or- 
ganized beings.  While  strictly  Scriptural,  it  also  enables  us 
to  combine  with  itself  the  prevalent  logical  and  historical 
methods  in  the  science  of  theology,  and  it  gives  us  the  ration- 
ale, the  real  inner  law,  by  which  to  explain  these  methods. 
Taken  from  Christianity  itself,  it  expresses  its  inmost  spirit. 
Under  its  influence  theology  is  seen  to  be,  not  divine  alone, 
not  human  alone,  but  both  human  and  divine.  It  gives  us 
God  and  man  in  its  analysis ;  the  God-man,  in  its  synthesis, 
and  man  reunited  to  God  in  its  application.  Over  all  the 
doctrines  of  the  Bible  it  casts  a  hallowed  light,  so  that  we  see 
them  in  both  their  divine  and  human  aspects.  Yinet  felici- 
tously remarks,  that  "  the  Gospel  has  put  into  the  mouth  of 
God  the  saying,  '  I  am  a  man,  and  nothing  human  is  foreign 
from  me.' "  Niedner,  the  most  philosophical  of  the  living 
German  church  historians,  admirably  declares*  that  the 
"  redemptive  system  has  the  character  of  a  divine  humanity  ; 
for  in  it  what  is  necessary  has  become  possible,  the  highest 
has  come  nearest  to  us,  the  most  universal  becomes  most  per- 
sonal ;  all  in  it  is  at  the  same  time  measured  in  both  a  divine 
and  human  way."  f 

*  Studien  u.  Kritiken,  1853,  5,  854  :  applied  to  the  individual  and  society. 

f  Dr.  Julius  Miiller,  in  liis  admirable  article,  "  Dogmntik^''''  in  the  "  Real- 
Encyclopadie  fiir  Protestantische  Theologie  und  Kirche,"  after  speaking-  of 
the  contrast  between  what  is  historical  and  what  is  rational,  that  the  former 
gives  us  only  relative,  while  the  latter  aims  at  absolute  truth,  adds,  that  iu 
the  Christian  system,  centring  in  the  redemption  that  comes  through  Christ, 
the  God-man,  we  have  both  combined,  and  the  antagonism  between  the 
historical  and  rational  reconciled.  It  is,  he  says,  in  the  essence  of  this  per- 
fect revelation,   "  that  the  conflict  between  that  which  reason  seeks,  viz., 


140  THE   IDEA    OF    CPIRISTIAN    THEOLOGY    AS    A    SYSTEM. 

And  the  great  conflicts  of  the  church,  as  well  as  the  living 
consent  of  its  teachers  and  thinkers,  testify  to  the  supremacy 
to  the  Mediatorial  principle  of  an  Incarnation  in  order  to 
Hedemption.  "Dens  descendit  ut  assnrgamus" — is  both  the 
battle-cry  and  the  triumphal  hymn  of  the  sacramental  host  of 
God's  elect.  Cliristianity  achieved  its  first  great  victory  over 
the  Greek  and  Itoman  Paganism,  and  subdued  their  civiliza- 
tion, by  the  fact  of  the  doctrine  of  an  Incarnate  Saviour.  By 
divine  prescience,  and,  as  it  were,  by  an  inward  necessity, 
those  truths  of  the  Trinity  and  Incarnation,  which  rationalism 
discards,  were  first  developed  in  the  church,  as  the  historic 
basis  of  its  theology  :  and  before  them  the  heathen  deities 
shrank  back  abashed,  dazzled  with  excess  of  light.  Then 
began  what  Buciianan  called  "  the  luxation  of  the  joints  of 
heathenism  ;  "  and  since  then,  as  our  most  eminent  American 
historian  has  well  said,  "the  idea  of  God  with  us  dwelt  and 
dwells,  in  every  system  of  thought  that  can  pretend  to  vital- 
ity." And  so,  too,  the  second  gi'eat  victory  of  the  true  church 
over  the  paganized  Christianity  of  mediaeval  times,  was 
achieved  by  calling  forth  the  Son  of  God  in  his  radiant  ghny 
from  the  sacraments  in  which  Rome  entombed  him,  and  offer- 
ing his  living  person  to  the  faith  of  the  believer.  And  in  its 
third  and  present  contest  with  a  subtle  and  relentless  pan- 
theistic infidelity, — the  real  intellectual  paganism, — that  ori- 
ginal sin  of  human  reason,  the  whole  Christian  faith  lives  or 
dies,  as  ever  of  old,  in  all  its  other  conflicts,  with  the  doctrine 
of  an  Incarnate  Redeemer;  here  is  the  only  citadel  not 
stormed,  though  oft  beleaguered. 


the  absolute  truth,  and  that  which  history  gives,  viz.,  relative  truth,  is 
abolished.  Here  we  have  individual  historical  facts  restricted  by  space  and 
time,  and  yet  absolutely  true,  unconditionally  valid,  the  measure  of  all  other 
knowledge  in  the  religious  sphere."  "  Hence  the  scientific  exhibition  of  the 
Christian  doctrine  can  maintain  its  historical  character  without  losing  sight 
of  its  office  of  teaching  what  is  absolutely  valid  and  true  in  religion  ;  for  the 
Christian  religion  is  itself  historical  fact,  the  absolute  fact  of  history."  This 
gives  its  striking  and  solitary  peculiarity  to  the  science  of  Christian  religion 
as  compared  with  other  sciences. 


POWER    OF    THK    DOCTRINE    OF    THE    CROSS.  141 

The  living  and  dying  confessions  of  the  heroes  of  our 
faith,  its  men  of  thought  and  men  of  fire— for  the  Christian 
heroes  liave  been  both,  sealing  their  words  with  deeds— at- 
test the  mighty  power  of  the  doctrine  of  the  cross.  Ori- 
gen  and  Athanasins,  Augustine  and  Anselm,  Pascal  and  Ed- 
wards,— 

"  The  dead  but  sceptred  sovereigns,  who  still  rule 
Our  spirits  from  their  urns," 

Math  an  innumerable  company,  unite,  as  such  men  have  united 
in  nothing  else,  in  confessing  the  matchless  power  that  comes 
frttm  our  living  Lord.     From  ancient,  medi8eval,and  modern 
times  their  testimony  crowds  upon  ns.      Irenaius  of  Lyons, 
the  greatest  name  of  ancient  Gaul,  declares  that  the  Son  of 
God  was  made  man,  and  "  recapitulated  in  himself  the  long 
exposition  of  humanity,"  that  he  "  might  accustom  men  to  see 
God,  and  that  God  might  dwell  in  man."      Tertullian,  that 
fiery  and  exuberant  soul  of  Northern  Afiica,  whence  came 
the  earliest  Latin  Christian  literature,  aiSi-ms,  "  that  Christ  as- 
sumed a  human  soul,  to  save  man  in  himself,  because  man 
could   not   be   saved   except   by   him,   and    while  in  him." 
Cyprian,  the  dauntless  bishop  of  Carthage,  asserts,  "  that  what 
man  is,  Christ  would  be,  so  that  man  might  be  what  Chi-ist 
is."      Origen,  the  glory  of  Oriental  literature,  avows,  "  that 
there    was    in   Christ   an    intimate    union    of  humanity  and 
divinity,  so  that  humanity  might  become  divine."      Athana- 
sins the   Great,   the   Father   of    orthodoxy,    the    victor   for 
Christianity    at    Nicsea,   affirms    against     the    Greeks,  as  a 
"  rational "  truth,  "  that  the  Logos  alone  could  restore  to  man 
the  divine  image,"  and,  yet  more  boldly,  that  "  God  was  in 
man,  that  men  might  be  made  as  God."       St.  Austin,  the 
prince  of  Latin  teachers,  and  whose  name  was  second  only 
to  that  of  Paul  in  the  Reformation, also  confesses,  that  "God 
became  man,   that  men   might  be  as  God,"    and   he   is   so 
entranced  with    the   vision    of   the   glories   of    redemption, 
that  in  spite  of    the   guilt    of    sin  he  could    exclaim :    "  O 
felix  culpa,  quoe  talem    ac  tantum  meruit  habere  redemp- 


142         THE    IDEA    OF    CHKISTIAN    THEOLOGY    AS    A    SYSTEM, 

torem  !  "  *  Aiiselm,  too,  who  leads  the  scholastics  and  is  the 
ablest  of  the  archl)ishops  of  Canterbury,  in  liis  treatise,  Cur 
Deus  Homo,  evinced  the  "  rational  necessity  of  redemption  by 
an  incarnation,  since  neither  man  nor  angel  could  effect  the 
work."  Luther,  the  hero  of  the  spiritual  conflicts  of  the  six- 
teenth century,  asks,  in  tender  wonder :  "  Is  not  that  a  great 
thing,  that  God  is  man,  that  God  gives  himself  to  man  and  will 
be  his,  as  a  man  gives  himself  to  his  wife  and  is  hers,"  and 
tells  us,  that  he  "  who  receives  Christ's  manhood  has  also  his 
godhead."  John  Calvin,  a  name  still  feared  and  dis]>araged 
by  effeminate  tliinkers,  whose  posthumous  influence  has  been 
even  greater  than  was  the  measure  of  his  earthly  toils,  pro- 
claims, "  that  it  was  meet  that  the  Son  of  God  should  become 
to  us  Immanuel,  that  we  might  have  the  firm  belief  that  God 
is  dw^elling  with  us,"  and,  that  "  Christ  is  the  mirror  in  whom 
w^e  may  without  deception  contemplate  our  own  election." 
And  it  is  Lord  Bacon,  whose  pihilosophy  is  better  known  than 
his  more  profound  theology,  who  has  left  it  on  record,  that 
God  is  so  holy  and  pure,  "  that  neither  angel,  man,  nor  world, 
could  stand,  or  can  stand  one  moment  in  his  eye,  without  be- 
holding the  same  in  the  face  of  a  mediator;"  "here,"  he 
adds,  "  is  the  true  ladder  fixed,  whereby  God  might  descend 
to  his  creatures,  and  his  creatures  might  ascend  to  God." 
And,  not  here  to  make  more  than  a  passing  allusion  to  our 
own  Edwards  and  his  history  of  Kedemption,  the  whole  re- 
cent evangelical  Theology  of  Germany,  all  its  great  men  who 
have  fought  its  fiercest  battle  with  our  faith's  subtlest  foes, 
unite  with  one  consent  in  the  main  position  of  Schleiermacher, 
that  "  the  specific  element  of  Christianity  is  found  in  a  fel- 
lowship with  God,  conditioned  by  the  redemption  that  comes 
through  the  God-man." 

In  farther  vindication  of  this  idea  of  Christian  theology  it 


*  Richard  a  Sancto  Victore  repeats  this,  as  follows  (See  Dorner,  Christ- 
ology) : 

O  certe  necessarium  Adas  peccatum,  quod  Christi  morte  deletura  est  I 
0  felix  culpa,  qu£e  talem  ac  tantum  meruit  habere  redemptorem  ! 


TESTS    OF   A    FINAL    SYSTEM    OF    TRCTH,  143 

may  be  said,  that  our  faith  is  seen  to  be  the  highest  and  best 
of  systems,  independent  of  philosophy,  yet  containing  the 
wisest  philosopliy,  when  it  is  planted  upon  the  rock,  Jesus 
Christ.  Both  in  theoretical  completeness  and  practical  efhci- 
ency,  in  its  adaptation  to  all  man's  wants,  the  system  which 
has  Christ  for  its  centre  stands  alone  and  nnequalled.  The 
theoretical  problem  of  the  highest  system  for  human  thought, 
and  the  practical  problem  of  the  most  efficient  system  for 
human  action,  are  solved  by  the  Christian  faith,  when  seen  in 
its  symmetry  and  felt  in  its  power,  as  recapitulated  in  the 
person  of  the  Son  of  God. 

A  complete  system  of  truth  mnst  embrace  both  God  and 
man,  both  time  and  eternity.  It  must  have  its  ultimate 
grounds,  beyond  which  our  thoughts  cannot  reach  ;  its  ulti- 
mate ends,  solving  the  problem  of  the  final  destiny  of  human- 
ity ;  and  it  must  contain  in  itself  the  powers,  by  which  it  can 
achieve  the  ends  which  it  forecasts  as  needed  and  best.  These 
tests  of  a  real  and  final  system  of  truth  apply,  we  hold,  to  the 
Christian  system,  viewed  as  centring  in  the  person  and  work 
of  Christ,  and  to  that  alone. 

It  has  its  ultimate  grounds,  beyond  which  thought  cannot 
penetrate.  In  the  Divine  being  and  agency;  in  the  Triune 
subsistence  and  manifestation  of  the  Godhead  ;  in  the  inti- 
mate relations  of  nature  and  man  to  God,  the  creator  and 
preserver  of  all :  in  the  union  of  the  infinite  with  the  finite 
by  that  Incarnation,  which  is  the  groundwork  of  all  revelation  : 
in  these,  not  to  mention  other  truths,  the  Christian  system 
has  the  firmest  ontological  foundation,  where  all  human 
thought  may  rest  in  that  mysterious  awe,  which  is  essential 
to  religion  and  inseparable  from  our  finite  capacities. 

It  has  also  its  ultimate  ends,  comprising  the  final  destiny 
of  all  that  is  created.  Its  principles  reach  from  the  inmost 
centre  to  the  outmost  periphery  of  human  thought,  desire, 
and  wants,  embracing  the  eternity  of  our  being.  Imao-i- 
nation  cannot  penetrate  beyond  its  eternal  kingdom;  no 
principle  can  supersede  or  surpass  its  universal  love,  which 
subordinates  to  itself  all  other  moralities.     All  the  rio-htful 


144         THE    IDEA    OF    CIIKISTIAN    THEOLOGY    AS    A    SYSTEM. 

interests  of  man,  each  in  its  several  integrity,  may  be  retained 
in  this  kingdom,  if  subordinated  to  its  last  end,  the  glory  of 
God  in  redemption.  And  in  that  cc>mprehensive  end  are 
comprised  the  wisdom  and  love  of  God  the  Father,  the  fulness 
of  grace  that  is  in  Christ  the  Son,  and  those  gifts  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  which  form  a  royal  priesthood,  a  peculiar  people,  an 
eternal  fellowshij)  between  God  and  man. 

Nor  is  this  all.  For  the  same  system  is  able  not  only  to 
state,  but  to  solve  the  great  problems  of  human  destiny,  thus 
evincing  its  superiority  to  mere  philosophy,  and  its  inherent 
rationality.  For  the  problems  of  the  union  of  the  finite  with 
the  infinite,  of  the  reconciliation  of  a  holy  God  with  a  sinful 
race,  and  of  our  personal  and  immortal  destiny,  which  philo- 
sophy can  only  state,  the  Christian  system  solves.  The  full 
perception  and  conviction  of  this  great  fact  about  Christianity 
would  end,  and  this  alone  can  terminate,  the  unnatural  war 
between  philosophy  and  faith.  For  philosophy  and  faith  are 
set  at  variance  only  by  sin,  and  kept  in  discord  only  from  not 
seeing  Christ  as  he  is  !  Pliiloso2:)hy  and  faith  !  both  are  from 
God  ;  the  one  may  descry  the  end,  and  the  other  gives  us  the 
means;  the  one  states  the  problems,  which  the  other  solves; 
j)hilosophy  shows  us  the  labyrinth,  and  Christ  gives  us  the 
clue  ;  the  former  recognizes  the  necessity  of  redemption,  the 
latter  gives  us  the  redemption  itself.  The  two  at  variance  ! 
When  every  Christian  knows,  what  one  has  said,  that  "  when 
we  speak  the  language  of  the  Bible,  we  speak  our  mother 
tongue  ;  "  at  variance  !  only  when  philosophy  goes  "  sound- 
ing on  its  dim  and  perilous  way,"  averting  the  heart  from 
Ilim  who  of  God  is  made  unto  us  wisdom,  as  well  as,  and 
because,  righteousness  and  redemption  ;  at  variance  !  only  as 
the  light  of  the  sun  is  at  variance  with  the  heat  of  the  sun,  or 
as  the  light  and  heat  of  the  great  ruler  of  the  day  are  at  vari- 
ance with  the  lesser  lights  that  rule  the  night :  at  variance ! 
only  as  redemption  is  at  variance  with  sin,  eternity  with  time, 
the  Incarnation  with  creation,  and  the  God  of  grace  with  the 
God  of  justice  !  at  variance  !  even,  and  only,  as  a  true  answer 
is  at  variance  with  a  solemn  question,  as  the  solution  of  a 


THEOLOGY    A    PKACTICAL    SCIENCE.  145 

problem  is  at  variance  with  the  problem  itself ;  since  all  that 
Christ  proposes  and  does  is  to  solve,  in  a  practical,  living 
method,  the  absorbing  problem  of  the  relation  of  man  to 
God  and  of  sin  to  redemption.  For  this  end  was  he  born, 
and  for  this  cause  came  he  into  the  world,  that  he  might  be 
the  King  of  the  eternal  truth. 

And  the  inherent  superiority  of  the  Christian  system  is  also 
manifest  in  the  fact,  that  it  contains  the  efficient  powers  by 
which  it  can  achieve  the  ends,  which  it  decdares  to  be  best 
and  needed.  Theology,  unlike  philosophy,  is  a  practical  as 
well  as  a  theoretical  science  :^  its  object  is  to  transform  the 
Christian  faith  into  the  Christian  life.  How  impotent  is 
speculation,  how  mighty  is  faith,  in  doing  the  work  which 
both  know  to  be  of  vital  necessity!  Christianity  fulfils  its 
own  prophecies ;  it  proves  its  divine  origin  by  superhuman 
victories.  Every  opposing  religion,  and  evei-y  arrogant  phi- 
losophy, it  has  overcome  in  its  resistless  march,  and  from  them 
all,  one  after  another,  has  been  heard  the  expiring  cry, 
wrested,  it  is  said,  from  the  apostate  Julian  :  ''  Thou  hast  con- 
quered, O  Galilean  !  "  It  is  more  than  realizing  the  vision 
of  Cicero,  in  his  "  Laws,"  that  the  "  whole  world  is  to  be  es- 
teemed one  community  of  gods  and  men."  *  Through  Our 
earth  it  is  diffusing  the  principle  of  justice,  as  it  also  here 
first  made  charity  to  be  the  greatest  of  the  virtues.  It  has 
ennobled  womanhood,  sanctified  childhood,  spiritualized  man- 
hood, and  opened  to  all  the  gates  of  endless  life.  It  helps  us 
to  "  strip  off  our  fond  and  false  identity,"  and  "  woos  and 
clasps  us  to  the  eternal  spheres."  It  has  brought  the  king- 
dom of  God  to  the  very  vision  and  heart  of  man.  It  touches 
our  deepest  and  tenderest  feelings,  and  makes  us  strong  ior 
conflict  or  submission.  It  awakens,  that  it  may  still  the 
sense  of  guilt.  It  relieves  our  untold  sorrows,  and  imparts 
those  hidden  joys  no  tongue  can  tell.  Its  inmost  efficacy  is 
seen  in  the  formation  of  a  holy  mind,  in  the  ti'ansformation 
of   a  sinner  into    a  loving  child   of  God,    a    marvel  which 


*  De  Leg. ,  Bk.  i. 
10 


146  THE   IDEA    OF    CHRISTIAN    THEOLOGY    AS    A    SYSTEM. 

neither  science  knows,  nor  art  can  imitate.  And  in  the  race, 
as  in  the  soul,  it  creates  new  and  lii^^her  wants,  and  satisfies 
them.  Its  promises  irradiate  the  future,  as  its  beneficence 
has  blessed  the  past.  Human  rights  and  human  wants  de- 
mand its  triuHiphs.  The  world  travails  and  sighs  for  re- 
demption, so  that  perpetual  war  may  issue  in  perpetual 
peace  ;  that  oppression  and  caste  may  be  abolished  ;  that  la- 
bor may  be  guided  by  moral  law  and  not  by  the  soulless  rule 
of  supply  and  demand ;  that  our  politics  may  be  patriotic 
and  just ;  that  the  terrible  inequalities  of  social  life  may  be 
eradicated,  the  hungry  fed,  the  naked  clothed ;  that  the 
physical  may  be  for  the  moral,  and  the  moral  for  the  spirit- 
ual ;  that  our  humanity  may  be  one  brotherhood,  in  Christ 
our  elder  brother  and  our  King.  All  this  is  pledged  in  the 
triumph  of  his  kingdom,  foreshadowed  in  the  promise  of  its 
millennial  glory.  And  though  some  expositors,  adhering  to 
the  letter,  put  that  glory  in  a  merely  sensual  and  Jewish 
form, — reminding  us  of  Milton's  sarcasm,  that  "  what  to  the 
Jew  is  only  Jewish  is  for  the  Christian  Canaanitish,"  yet, 
that  it  is  to  be  a  kingdom  in  which  Christ  shall  reign  and 
redemption  be  completed,  is  ensured  to  us  hv  the  faithful 
pledge  of  Him  who  has  promised,  and  is  alone  able  to  effect, 
that  grandest  of  consummations,  that  brightest  vision  of  the 
race. — the  ushering  in  of  that  "sacred,  high,  eternal  noon," 
in  which  the  kingdoms  of  tlie  world  shall  become  the  king- 
dom of  our  Lord  and  of  his  Chi-ist. 

We  may  crown  and  conclude  our  positions  as  to  the  theo- 
retical and  practical  superiority  of  the  system  that  centres  in 
Christ,  b}'  the  statement,  that  its  practical  efficacy  is  due  to 
those  very  truths  in  which  it  is  theoretically  the  most  sublime. 
It  has  its  power  in  the  Trinity,  Incarnation,  the  Atonement, 
Justification,  and  Eegeneration.  Its  virtue  is  gone  if  you 
take  from  it  the  single  idea  of  reunion  with  God  through 
Christ ;  here  is  its  simplest  lesson  contained  in  its  grandest 
fact.  Angels  desire  to  know  it,  while  children  learn  its  power. 
That  same  system  which  is  objective  in  the  In'ghest  spiritual 
sense  in  its  institution  and  authority,  is  also  subjective  in  the 


THE    WESTMINSTER   CONFESSION".  147 

most  intimate  manner  in  its  workings  and  application,  and 
tlie  truths  whereby  it  is  tlie  one,  are  the  instruments  whereby 
it  is  the  other.  "  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  He  gave  His 
only  begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in  Plini  might 
not  perish,  but  have  eternal  life :  "  here  is  the  whole  sublime 
and  simple  system,  its  source,  its  central  truth,  its  jDOwer,  its 
promise,  its  appeal  and  its  felicity  ;  it  is  all  given  us  in  this 
amazing  fact  which  leads  us  more  than  any  other  to  stand  in 
awe  before  ourselves  and  God. 

From  this  attempt  at  an  exposition  and  vindication  of  the 
true  nature  of  systematic  theology,  we  jiass  to  its  application 
to  our  own  times  and  controversies.  Our  limits,  however, 
will  allow  us  to  refer  only  to  the  theological  and  not  at  all  to 
the  humanitarian  or  pantheistic  tendencies  of  the  day. 

Those  current  dissensions,  which  unhappil}'  divide  our 
churches,  have  started  from  the  AVestminster  Confession  of 
Faitli  as  their  common  historical  source.  This  Confession  is 
the  ablest  and  ripest  product  of  that  Great  Reformation,  which 
was  so  fruitful  in  symbolic  literature.  The  Calvinistic  or 
Reformed  portion  of  the  Protestant  Church  had  the  most  pro- 
lific spiritual  progeny  of  this  kind.  While  the  same  type  of 
theology  runs  through  the  Swiss,  German,  Dutch,  Scotch,  and 
even  the  Anglican  Reformed  bodies,  they  also  have  a  greater 
variety  than  the  sister  Lutheran  churches.  The  Westminster 
Confession  was  the  last  of  these  larger  Confessions,  for  tbat 
of  Savoy  in  its  doctrinal  parts  is  almost  verbally  the  same  ; 
it  was  produced  in  the  most  vigorous  period  of  English  the- 
ology, by  as  grave  and  discreet  an  assembly  as  was  ever  con- 
vened in  Europe.  N^o  creed,  excepting  that  of  Trent,  was 
composed  with  such  deliberation  ;  none  of  modern  times  has 
had  so  wide  and  deep  an  influence.  In  the  New  England 
and  the  Presbyterian  Churches  of  our  land,  none  has  super- 
seded it.  Other  influences  have  helped  our  prosperity ;  but 
at  its  basis  has  been  the  system  of  faith,  popularly  known  as 
Calvinism,  but  which  is  higher  and  better  than  any  name  of 
man,  and  which  has  come  dowm  to  us  through  a  long  line  of 
elect  ones, — Paul,  the  apostle  of  the  Gentiles ;  Augustine, 


14S  THE    IDEA    OF    CHRISTIAN   THEOLOGY    AS    A    SYSTEM. 

whose  symbol  is  a  burning  heart ;  the  profound  Ansehn,  and 
the  subtle  Aquinas  ;  Luther,  the  hero,  and  Calvin,  the  con- 
structive genius  of  the  Reform  ;  Pascal,  who,  with  Calvin, 
made  the  French  language  to  speak  divinity  ;  South,  the 
keenest  wit,  and  Leighton,  the  most  spiritual  thinker,  of  Eng- 
land's palmiest  days ;  Knox,  the  fiery  herald,  and  Chalmers, 
the  exuberant  orator  of  Scotch  divinity ;  through  Baxter  and 
Biinyan,  Owen  and  Howe,  Edwards  and  Bellamy.  It  is  a 
sj'stem  which  has  always  been  the  language  of  prayer  when 
not  of  theology ;  its  essence  is  found  in  that  invocation  of 
Augustine,  which  first  stirred  the  polemics  of  Pelagius : 
"  Give,  O  Lord,  what  thou  orderest,  and  order  what  thou  wilt." 
It  dwells  fondly  upon  the  high  articles  of  the  divine  majesty  ; 
its  aim  has  ever  been  to 

" assert  eternal  providence, 

And  justify  the  ways  of  God  to  men." 

In  holy  awe  and  love,  it  always  says,  by  the  gi-ace  of  God  I 
am  what  I  am  ;  the  only  limit  it  puts  upon  the  divine  grace, 
is  in  the  divine  wisdom,  not  coercing  the  sinful  will.  It  be- 
gins and  ends  with  the  adoration  of  one  of  old  : — "  Thou  art 
the  Lord  of  all  Thou  hast  created  ;  with  Thee  stand  the 
causes  of  all  that  is  unstable ;  with  Thee  abides  the  immuta- 
ble origin  of  all  that  is  mutable  ;  with  thee  lives  the  eternal 
reason  of  all  that  is  irrational  and  temporal."* 

This  general  system  of  belief,  earnest  chiefly  for  the  truth, 
austere  chiefly  towards  sin,  zealous  in  revivals,  missions,  and 
reform,  has  shaped  our  thoughts  and  manners.  In  its  essen- 
tial features  it  is  doubtless  held  by  many,  whose  terms  and 
definitions  are  at  variance.  Our  prominent,  diverging  ten- 
dencies, are,  perhaps,  better  classed  as  theological  and  ethical, 
I'ather  than  by  the  invidious  contrast  of  orthodoxy  and  hetero- 

*  Tu  autem  Domine,  qui  et  semper  vivis,  et  nihil  moritur  in  te,  quoniam 
ante  primordia  saeoialorum,  et  ante  omne,  quod  vel  ante  dici  potest,  Tu  es, 
cb  Deus  es,  Dominusque  omnium,  quEe  creasti ;  at  apud  te  rerum  omnium 
hisfcabilium  stant  causae ;  et  rerum  omnium  mutabilium  immutabiles  ma- 
uent  origines  ;  et  omnium  irrationabilium  et  temporalium  sempiternae  vivunt 
rationes. — August.  Conf.  i.  6. 


INFLUENCE    OF    NEW    ENGLAND    THEOLOGY.  149 

doxy.  Polemical,  and  especially  ecclesiastical  zeal,  has  added 
fuel  to  the  strife  of  words,  dividing  those  who  ought  never  to 
have  been  sundered.  We  see  eye  to  eye,  when  we  look  into 
each  other's  hearts,  and  still  that  tongue,  which  an  apostle 
calls  an  evil  member.  Quinctilian  might  teach  us,  that  "  it 
should  be  esteemed  among  the  virtues  to  be  ignorant  of  some 
things."  Socrates  makes  Alcibiades  confess,  that  he  is  most 
dogmatic  about  what  he  half  knows  and  is  half  ignorant  of. 
We  miglit  be  both  wiser  and  better  by  following  the  inspired 
sayings :  Be  not  many  masters  ;  and  Charity  is  the  bond  of 
perfectness. 

Our  doctrinal  disputes  may  be  traced  back  to  the  influence 
of  the  so-called  New  England  Theology,  coming  into  the 
Presbyterian  Churches  with  that  time-honored  interchange  of 
ministers,  which  has  so  widely  blessed  and  united  our  whole 
laud.  These  discussions,  on  the  surface,  refer  to  the  greater 
or  less  tenacity  with  which  the  "  ipsissima  verba "  of  the 
confession  are  insisted  upon  ;  but  they  have  also  a  deeper 
ground. 

In  the  Theology  of  the  elder  Edwards  many  find  the  seeds 
and  summary  of  the  strife.  And  he  was  a  man,  take  him  for 
all  in  all,  we  have  not  looked  upon  his  like  again  ;  simple  yet 
profound ;  subtle  and  comprehensive  ;  humble  yet  ardent ; 
of  an  intense  spirituality  and  the  keenest  polemic  sagacity. 
Had  his  general  culture  been  equal  to  his  spiritual  insight,  and 
his  historic  learning  to  his  dialectic  skill ;  had  he  speculated 
upon  the  objective  facts  as  earnestly  as  upon  the  subjective 
aspects  of  the  Christian  faith ;  had  he  elaborated  a  whole 
system,  instead  of  detached,  yet  vital  portions;  he  would  have 
bequeathed  to  us  a  more  unrivalled  fame.  Yet  still  his 
wisdom  is  seen,  not  only  in  what  he  says,  but  in  his  failing  to 
say  some  things.  Sundry  extreme  positions  are  extracted 
from  him  by  inference,  not  by  testimony;  it  is  what  his  ex- 
positors think  he  ought  to  have  said,  and  not  just  what  he  did 
say.  Thus  fares  it,  for  example,  with  the  philosophemes,  that 
all  that  is  moral  is  in  exercises  ;  that  the  power  to  the  contrary 
is  the  radical  idea  of  freedom ;  and  that  virtue  has  ultimate 


150  THE    IDEA    OF    CHRISTIAN    THEOLOGY   AS    A    SYSTEM. 

respect  to  happiness.  Neither  the  divine  efficiency,  nor  the 
human  efficiency,  into  which  the  New  England  controversies 
afterwards  degenerated,  can  be  justified  from  Edwards,  any 
more  than  from  our  Confession  of  Faith.  His  object  in  his 
polemic  treatises  is  to  vindicate  tlie  Calvinistic  system,  as 
scriptural  and  rational,  against  the  Arminian  philosophy ;  his 
object  in  all  his  works  is  to  magnify  that  new  and  spiritual 
life,  which  he  knew  so  fully  fi-om  his  own  ripe  experience. 

His  Theory  of  the  Nature  of  Virtue  has  been  stiguiatized 
as  a  covert  utilitarianism ;  but  this  is  a  grand  misconception 
of  an  elevated  speculation  ;  it  is  utilitarian"  neither  as  making 
virtue  consist  in  a  tendency  to  happiness,  nor,  as  making 
virtue  to  have  an  ultimate  respect  to  happiness.  Benevo- 
lence, or  love,  with  him  has  respect  to  all  good,  and  ultimate 
respect  to  the  highest  good,  that  is,  in  his  view,  to  holiness 
and  not  to  happiness.*  His  departures  from  the  letter  of  the 
Westminster  Confession  are  an  enlargement  and  not  a  viola- 
tion of  its  spirit,  in  a  more  comprehensive  view  of  the  end 
of  God  in  creation  ;  a  deeper  analysis  of  the  nature  of 
virtue  ;  a  more  careful  discrimination  between  natural  and 
moral  ability  and  inability ;  and  a  vindication  of  the  fact, 
that  imputation  is  mediate  instead  of  immediate,  oi',  that  what 
is  real  in  the  relation  between  Adam  and  his  posterity,  and 
between  Christ  and  his  people,  is  at  the  basis  of  what  is  legal. 

*  This  is  Bellamy's  authentic  interpretation  :  "  The  good  of  being  in 
general,  which  is  the  object  of  benevolence,  is  not  the  partial,  but  the  com- 
plete good  of  being  in  general,  comprising  all  the  good  that  being  is  capable 
of,  by  whatever  name  called — natural,  moral,  spiritual.  It  is  the  sum  of 
all  good."  Bellamy  on  this  point  represents  the  views  of  Edwards  more 
correctly  than  have  many  others.  See  Bellamy's  Life,  in  the  last  edition  of 
his  Works.  The  position  that  benevolence,  in  the  system  of  Edwards,  has 
ultimate  respect  to  happiness,  is  not  borne  out  by  any  consistent  interpreta- 
tion of  his  treatise  on  the  Nature  of  True  Virtue,  and  it  is  wholly  inconsist- 
ent with  his  positions  in  his  kindred  work,  "  The  End  of  God  in  Creation." 
His  theory  is,  that  virtue  consists  essentially  in  benevolence  or  love  ;  in  love 
to  all  that  is,  according  to  its  dignity  and  value  ;  in  an  impartial  love,  which 
seeks  all  the  good  of  all  that  is,  with  ultimate  respect  to  the  highest  good, 
or  holiness.  This  love  takes  two  chief  forms,  the  love  of  benevolence  and 
the  love  of  complacency. 


THE    WOKKS    OF    EDWARDS.  151 

His  leading  works  may  all  be  grouped  around  one  idea : 
man  in  his  relation  to  divine  grace.  The  state  of  man  with- 
out grace  is  set  forth  in  his  treatise  on  "  Original  Sin,"  the 
most  scriptural  and  profound  disquisition  on  that  theme  in 
the  English  tongue  :  of  the  relation  of  sovereignty  to  free 
agency  in  the  bestowal  of  grace,  he  treats  with  unmatched 
loo-ic  in  his  work  on  the  "  Freedom  of  the  Will ;"  into  the 
soul,  as  possessed  of  grace,  he  gives  a  ripe  insight  in  the  es- 
says upon  the  "  Keligious  Affections,"  and  the  "  Nature  of 
True  Yirtue,"  in  the  former  in  its  practical  bearings  and  in 
the  latter  in  its  ultimate  theory ;  and  the  results  of  grace 
in  application  to  the  whole  system  he  sets  forth,  theologically 
in  his  grand  treatise  on  the  "  End  of  God  in  Creation," — 
which  he  makes  to  be  the  divine  glory  manifest  in  the  divine 
works,  and,  under  its  historical  aspects,  in  his  "  History  of 
Eedemption,"  in  which  all  of  God's  works  and  ways,  all  the- 
ology and  all  history,  are  exhibited  as  centering  in  the  redemp- 
tion that  is  in  Christ  Jesus. 

The  immediate  school  of  Edwards,  whom  Nassau  Hall  made 
its  president,  was  soon  divided,  as  is  the  case  with  the  follow- 
ers of  most  great  men,  into  two  parties,  both  faithful  to  him, 
where  he  enlarged  the  thought  of  theology,  but  both  raising- 
new  cpiestions.  Bellamy  annihilated  the  logic  of  the  Antino- 
mians ;  Smalley  elaborated  most  carefully  the  distinction  be- 
tween natural  ability  and  moral  inability.  HojDkins  adds  the 
epithet  "  disinterested  "  to  benevolence,  and  once  alludes  to 
the  possibility  of  resolving  all  that  precedes  choice  into  a  di- 
vine constitution,  though  he  does  not  teach  the  dogma  of  an  un- 
corrupt  human  constitution.  That  sin  is  the  necessary  means 
of  the  greatest  good,  and  that  a  willingness  to  be  damned 
is  the  best  ground  for  the  conviction  that  we  never  shall  be, 
were  consequences  deduced  from  his  theories.  Emmons,  in 
the  spirit  of  Berkeley's  nominalism,  resolves  the  soul  into  a 
series  of  exercises,  and  of  course  holds  that  all  sin  consists  in 
sinning ;  but  he  held  as  strongly  that  the  direct  divine  effi- 
ciency is  the  source  of  all  exercises ;  and  many  who  plead  his 
authority,  adopt  his  exercises  without  their  efficiency.     Justi- 


152  'J'lIE    IDEA    OF    CHEISTIAN    THEOLOGY    AS    A    SYSTEM. 

fication  he  consistently  resolves  into  mere  pardon.  Kext 
comes  the  notorious  distinction  into  the  men  of  Taste  and  the 
men  of  Exercise  ;  the  foi'iner  resting  upon  tlie  authority  of 
the  elder  Edwards,  Bellamy,  Smalley,  Barton,  Dwight,  and 
possibly  Hopkins  also ;  the  latter,  really  derived  fi-om  the 
younger  Edwards,  but  resting  in  the  abstractions  of  the  logi- 
cal Emmons.  But  this  original  and  as  yet  unwritten  theologi- 
cal movement  found  its  extremes,  chiefly  in  the  consequences 
urged  upon  the  two  theories  of  divine  efficiency  and  of  dis- 
interested benevolence. 

These  led  of  course  to  a  violent  reaction,  bringing  up  the 
counter  poles.  The  reaction  from  the  theory  of  divine  effi- 
ciency led  to  the  theory  of  an  ultimate  human  efficiency  in 
all  that  can  be  termed  moral ;  our  choice,  and  that  alone,  it 
was  said,  constitutes  morality  in  man.  Disinterested  benevo- 
lence stirred  up  the  impulse  of  self-love,  which  was  taken  out 
of  its  proper  place  as  a  mere  psychological  fact  and  made  to 
be  the  basis  of  an  ethical  theory,  the  main-spring  of  moral 
action.  The  soul  was  indeed  reinstated  in  its  native  rights,  as 
a  real  substance,  but  the  exercise  theory  was  retained  as  ulti- 
mate in  ethics,  and  the  direct  divine  efficiency  banished  to 
unknown  recesses.  The  metaphysical  paradox,  that  sin  is 
the  necessary  means  of  the  highest  good,  was  supplanted  by 
the  theological  paradox,  that  it  may  be  that  God  could  not 
prevent  all  sin  in  a  moral  system.  On  the  general  basis  of 
the  Scotch  pliilosophy,  a  consistent  theory  was  constructed,  if 
we  only  allow  the  ultimate  formula  in  ethics  to  be  this — that 
the  will  always  chooses  happiness  with  plenary  power  to  the 
contrary.  It  is  an  ethical  and  not  a  theological  theory  ;  God's 
agency  as  a  moral  governor  is  always  external  to  choice.  It 
is  a  theory  of  pure  individualism,  set  over  against  a  scheme  of 
unqualified  sovereignty. 

That  in  both  of  these  extreme  tendencies  there  is  a  devia- 
tion from  the  wise  tradition  of  Calvinistic  theology,  and  also 
from  the  Fathers  of  New  England  theology,  I  need  not  stop 
to  prove  or  argue.  Neither  on  an  abstract  divine  efficiency, 
nor  on  an  equally  abstract  ethical  theory,  have  our  confes- 


ETIirCS    IN    THE    CHRISTIAN    SCHEME.  153 

sions  or  systems  been  founded  as  their  ultimate  idea.  And 
it  is  in  its  bearings  upon  the  whole  system  of  Christian  the- 
ology as  a  system  that  I  would  speak  of  this  ethical  theory. 
In  giving  shape  to  Christian  theology,  and  the  final  statements 
of  Christian  doctrine,  especially  in  respect  to  nature  and 
grace,  are  we  to  aj^ply  the  test  of  such  an  ethical  theory  ?  Is 
ethics  to  say  the  last  word,  to  give  the  final  definition  ?  This 
is  the  vital  question  at  the  heart  of  these  discussions. 

It  is  not  to  be  doubted  that  all  doctrines  should  be  held  and 
stated  so  as  not  to  conflict  with  a  true  psychology  and  a  valid 
ethics.  Ethical  truth  has  a  relative  value  in  the  Christian 
scheme.  But  if  intellectual  and  moral  philosophy  be  the 
ultimate  standard,  are  we  not  forced  to  the  inferencje  that  in 
the  controversy  between  philosophy  and  faith,  philosop)hy  or 
the  intellectual  form  of  truth  is  the  final  arbiter  ?  Nor  need 
we  doubt  that  if  we  have  a  moral  system,  profound  enough, 
like  that  of  Edwards,  to  cover  the  methods  and  ends  of  God's 
real  system,  it  would  not  matter  much  whether  we  called  it  a 
moral  or  a  theological  scheme.  But  the  case  is  different  when 
we  assume  some  merely  naturalistic  system  as  the  touchstone 
by  which  to  try  the  Spirit  of  God.  When,  for  example, 
God's  whole  government  is  vindicated  by  the  fond  fancy  of  a 
power  to  the  contrary,  so  far  as  that  is  distinguishable  from 
the  power  of  choice,  and  which  is  never  exercised,  nor  can  be, 
without  losing  its  identity  ;  and  when  the  whole  of  virtue  is 
made  so  abstract,  that  nobody  ever  did  or  can  experience  it ; 
when  happiness  is  made  its  ultimate  object,  and  that,  too,  a 
happiness  which  in  its  last  analysis  must  be  a  form  of  self- 
love,  and  which,  if  it  become,  as  self-love,  the  direct 
object  of  virtuous  choice,  would  give  us  the  vei-y  essence 
of  sin ;  and  when  the  whole  anthropology  and  soteriology 
of  the  Christian  system,  and  its  theodicy  too,  are  made  to 
rest  on  such  barren  abstractions,  we  have  come,  I  think, 
about  to  the  end  of  ethics,  and  if  we  make  it  the  begin- 
ning of  theology  we  shall  soon  find  its  end  in  its  beginnino-. 
Not  in  such  lean  abstractions  was  the  hiding-place  of  the 
strength  of  the  theology  of  the  fathers  of  New  England. 


154         THE    IDEA    OF    CHRISTIAN    THEOLOGY    AS    A    SYSTEM. 

That  was  hid  with  Christ  in  God  ;  holiness  and  not  happi- 
ness, God's  will  and  not  man's,  was  the  soul  of  their  system. 

To  illustrate  the  bearings  of  such  a  moral  system  upon  the 
scheme  of  Christian  truth,  let  us  suppose  it  drawn  out  in  more 
articulate  statements,  and  conduct  it  to  its  inferences,  holding 
only  logic  responsible  for  tlie  same,  and  not  meaning  to  apply 
either  the  principles  or  the  deductions  to  any  man  or  body  of 
men,  but  only  to  systematic  theology. 

God,  let  it  be  said,  governs  all  his  moral  creatures  by  and 
in  a  moral  system  ;  Christianity  is  essentially  such  a  system. 
A  moral  system  is  one  administered  by  moral  law.  A  moral 
law  is  a  rule  of  action  addressed  by  sanctions  and  motives  to 
moral  agents.  A  moral  agent  is  one  who  chooses  with  plen- 
ary power  to  the  opposite,  which  power  is  available  even  for 
holiness  without  grace.  Choice  of  the  general  good  or  happi- 
ness is  the  whole  of  vii-tue,  and  merits  eternal  happiness. 
Choice  of  a  less  good  is  the  whole  of  sin,  and  deserves  eternal 
punishment.  The  whole  of  moral  government  is  restricted 
and  confined  to  such  exercises  of  choice.  Nothing  else  can 
have  moral  terms  properly  applied  to  it  excepting  such  con- 
scious choices. 

Let  us  suppose,  now,  such  a  scheme  applied  as  the  ultimate 
standard  to  the  Christian  system,  as  contained  in  the  Bible,  in 
our  experience,  in  our  confessions.  Let  the  express  or  im- 
plied understanding  be,  that  the  facts  and  truths  of  the 
Christian  faith  are  to  be  modified  so  as  to  meet  the  requisi- 
tions of  such  an  ethical  theory. 

The  idea  of  the  Christian  system,  as  we  have  seen,  is  con- 
tained in  the  fact  that  it  is  the  religion  of  Redemption,  cen- 
tering in  the  23erson  and  work  of  Christ.  It  supposes  a  race 
lost  in  sin,  and  for  a  general  ruin  it  provides  an  equally 
general  atonement  made  for  us  by  Christ,  and  applied  in  our 
justification,  regeneration,  and  sanctification,  through  the 
gracious  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 

What  part  of  this  Christian  system  is  ejected  from  the 
jnoral  sphere  by  such  an  ethical  theory  ? 

It  of  course  excludes  all  original  sin  ;  it  was  made  to  do 


HOW    AN    ETHICAL    THEORY    MAY    AFFECT   THEOLOGY.        155 

tliat.  It  is  idle  and  fallacious  to  applj'  any  terms,  which  ha  /e 
even  a  lingering  shade  of  moral  quality  about  them,  to  our 
native  condition,  since  conscious  choice  alone  makes  morality  : 
not  even  a  "  sinful  "  bias  can  be  left.  It  also  follows,  that 
God's  moral  government,  as  such,  has  nothing  to  do  with  the 
race,  but  only  with  individuals.  The  theory  also  excludes  the 
intiuences  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  regeneration  and  sanctilica- 
tion  from  the  sphere  of  morality  in  us,  so  far  as  these  are  not 
the  objects  of  conscious  choice  •,  for  it  says,  that  choice  of  the 
highest  good,  and  that  alone,  is  holiness.*  It  also  excludes 
all  spontaneous  affections  and  desires,  so  far  as  not  absolutely 
imder  the  will's  oi'igination  and  control.  And  hence  it  has 
been  consistently  said,  that  a  man's  will  may  be  wholly  for 
God,  and  all  his  affections  tending  to  the  world  and  self. 
The  regeneration  of  infants  is  impossible,  or  else  there  are 
two  kinds  of  regeneration,  one  of  which  is  moral  and  the 
other  not.  Native  depravity,  as  a  moral  state,  is  impossible, 
or  else  there  are  two  kinds  of  depravity,  one  of  which  is  moral 
and  the  other  not.  All  the  influence  of  the  race  upon  or  in 
us,  all  the  influence  of  Divine  Grace  upon  or  in  us,  all  the 
influence  of  our  own  natures  and  affections  upon  or  in  us,  are 
absolutely  excluded  from  our  moral  sphere,  so  far  as  these 
are  not  our  choice,  with  full  power  to  the  contrai-y.  And 
what  have  we  left,  but  an  abstract  sericvS  of  exercises,  the  very 
shadow  of  ourselves,  as  our  moral  realm?  In  the  popular 
mind,  what  we  do,  and  not  what  we  are,  becomes  the  stand- 
ard of  character.  The  fatal  defect  of  the  whole  scheme  is 
in  defining  what  is  moral,  ultimately  by  its  cause  or  desert, 
and  not  by  its  nature.f 

*  See  Juliua  Miiller's  Address  on  Pelagianism,  in  the  "  Deutsche  Zeit- 
schrift,"  1854. 

f  Such  results  as  those  which  Muller  urges  in  opposition  to  this  theory, 
are  inevitable,  when  the  canon,  which  Edwards  lays  down  so  carefully,  is 
disregarded,  "that  the  virtue  or  vice  of  the  dispositions  and  acts  of  the  soul 
lies  not  in  their  cause,  but  in  their  nature."  So  soon  as  we  make  the  ulti- 
mate test  of  our  definitions  to  be  the  cai;se  of  the  acts,  that  is,  the  will's 
choice,  or  the  desert  of  the  acts,  and  not  their  inherent  nature,  the  above 
conclusions  seem  to  be  inevitable. 


156  THE   IDEA    OF    CHRISTIAN    THEOLOGY    AS    A    SYSTEM. 

Plow,  too,  can  the  atonement  and  justification  be  bi'ouglit 
under  this  ethical  S3-stera  ?  Can  one  beiuio;  act  for  another,  in 
su(;h  a  sense,  that  his  merits  may  be  the  moral  ground  of  the 
other's  justification  ?  If  he  can,  then  the  whole  of  moral 
government  is  not  found  in  each  one's  individual  choices, 
which  seems  to  overthrow  this  whole  system.  Consistently 
with  such  a  system,  it  would  seem  that  we  must  say,  that 
justification  can  only  be  on  the  ground  of  each  man's  own 
choice,  as  holy  or  as  containing  the  germs  of  holiness  ;  and 
does  not  this  annul  the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith? 
Even  if  we  say  that  Christ  satisfied  public  justice,  the  ques- 
tion still  remains,  does  his  work  belong  to  a  moral  govern- 
ment, or  not  ?  If  it  does,  then  is  there  not  more  included 
in  a  moral  government,  than  each  man's  individual  choices  ? 
If  it  does  not  belong  to  a  moral  government,  where  does 
it  belong  ?  Is  it  physical,  or  is  it  to  be  resolved  into 
mere  sovereignty  ?  Or  are  there,  somehow,  two  kinds  of 
moral  government  ?  Paul  says,  Christ  was  made  under  the 
law,  that  he  might  redeem  them  that  are  under  the  law : 
Pehigius  says,  '•  God  makes  us  men  and  we  make  ourselves 
just." 

When  this  same  theory  makes  the  atoning  work  of  Christ 
to  be  a  merely  governmental  scheme,  it  fails  to  answer  the 
question :  IIoio  does  the  atonement  satisfy  the  ends  of  public 
justice?  What  are  these  ends,  which  it  satisfies,  and  how 
does  it  satisfy  tliese  ends?  If  public  justice  be  taken  as 
equivalent  to  benevolence,  and  benevolence  be  defined  as 
having  ultimate  respect  to  happiness,  it  is  difficult  to  see,  how 
a  proper  theory  of  the  atonement  can  be  constructed  on  tliis 
basis.  All  that  remains  is,  to  consider  the  atonement  as  a 
means  of  moral  impression.  But  how  can  it  produce  even 
this  moral  impression,  unless  it  be  considered  as  satisfying 
the  demands  of  the  divine  holiness? 

The  whole  penalty  of  sin,  from  which  Christ  redeems  us, 
it  is  claimed  by  this  theory,  is  eternal  death,  meaning  thereby 
solely  the  infliction  of  the  full  penalty  of  the  law  in  a  future 
life.     There  is  then,  of  course,  no  instance  of  the  infliction  of 


CAN  A  CHOICE  BE  HOLY  WITHOUT  GRACE?        157 

any  proper  punishment  for  sin  in  the  present  life,*  God 
does  not  govern  men  here  by  any  actual  punishments.  This 
appears  to  be  more  consistent  with  the  theory  of  Combe's 
Constitution  of  Man  than  with  the  arguments  in  Butler's 
Analogy.  How,  too,  on  this  system,  can  God  be  said  to  ex- 
ercise a  proper  moral  government  over  nations  ?  Does  not 
God,  as  a  moral  Governor,  punish  nations  here  ? 

On  the  assumption  of  the  same  theory,  that  man,  without 
Divine  Grace,  has  adequate  power  to  make  to  himself  a  new 
heart,  the  old  and  careful  distinctions  between  natural  and 
moral  ability  and  inability  lose  all  their  value,  for  in  these  it 
was  always  implied,  that  on  account  of  our  moral  inability 
our  natural  ability  was  not  available  for  holiness,  without 
grace.  To  sunder  the  natural  ability  from  the  moral  inability 
violates  the  whole  aim  of  these  distinctions.  While  to  will 
is  present  with  us,  yet  how  to  perform  that  which  is  good  we 
find  not,  excepting  by  grace.  Not  to  press  the  position,  that 
perfectionism  is  the  logical  result  of  this  theory,  let  us  sup- 
pose, by  way  of  test,  that  the  assumed  power,  without  grace, 
is  actually  exercised.  Would  it,  could  it,  be  a  holy  choice, 
without  divine  influence  ?  Does  not  religion  in  its  very 
essence  imply  a  union  of  the  divine  witli  the  human  ?  With- 
out the  presence  of  God  in  the  soul,  all  that  we  can  choose  is 
an  idea  of  God  or  Christ,  or  some  abstract  general  good  ; 
and  is  not  this  the  very  essence  of  a  pantheistic  religion?  It 
is  not  enough  here  to  say,  with  the  pagans,  "  non  sine  nu- 
mine^''  for  evei-y  religious  act  must  be  from,  through,  and  to 
God. 

So  far  as  this  theory  also  makes  happiness  to  be  the  ulti- 
mate object  of  virtuous  choice,  it  suggests  various  questions. 
Is  not  its  only  consistent  form  the  theory  of  self-love,  since 
all  happiness  in  the  last  result  must  be  a  subjective   state  ? 

*  With  a  singular  inconsistency,  it  is  said,  that  Christ  did  not  in  any 
sense  endure  the  penalty  of  the  law,  because  he  did  not  suffer  remorse  ;  and 
at  the  same  time  it  is  said,  that  the  whole  of  the  penalty  is  in  the  future 
life.  Do  not  men  suffer  remorse  here  ?  Is  it  here  not  a  penalty,  and  in  the 
future  world  is  it  a  penalty  ? 


158  THE    IDEA    OF    CHRISTIAN    THEOLOGY    AS    A    SYSTEM. 

In  this  form  does  it  not  substitute  a  mere  psychological  for 
an  ethical  fact?  Does  the  virtue  of  love  to  God  consist  in  an 
ultimate  choice  either  of  His  hapj^iness  or  of  our  own  ?  How 
does  the  atonement  of  Christ  meet  the  demands  of  snch  a  hap- 
piness theory  ?  Did  He  satisfy  public  justice  ;  and  is  that  the 
sum  of  such  subjective  happiness  ?  How  can  hapj)iness  be 
shown  to  be  the  only  good  'i  Are  there  not  different  kinds  of 
hajipiness  ?  What  makes  moral  happiness  to  be  best,  and  to 
be  different  from  all  other  kinds?  And  when  we  have  an- 
swered the  last  question,  are  we  not  beyond  any  mere  happi- 
ness theoiy  ? 

Such  are  some  of  the  results  which  seem  to  follow  when 
such  an  ethical  system  is  made  the  measure  and  final  test  of 
the  sj'stem  of  theology.  All  that  is  objective  and  vital  in 
the  Christian  system  is  relegated  fi-om  the  moral  sphere. 
Christianity  is  a  sort  of  outside  scheme  and  expedient,  and 
not  an  experienced  reality.  From  such  ethical  abstractions 
you  cannot  derive  a  single  Christian  truth.  A  system  of 
theology  constituted  on  this  basis,  is,  at  the  beginning  and  end, 
a  mere  system  of  ethics.  Instead  of  Christian  truth  we  get 
metaphysical  unrealities,  stat  nominis  umbra ;  we  have  a 
ghostly  form  without  flesh  or  blood,  in  place  of  the  radiant 
person  of  the  Son  of  God.  The  vital  power  of  the  Incarna- 
tion and  the  Atonement  is  gone  :  for  the  theory  leaves  both 
outside  of  the  strict  moral  sphere.  The  terms  of  specific 
Christian  truth  may  be  retained,  but  their  soul  is  eaten  out  by 
a  strange  fire  ;  they  may  be  used  in  deference  to  the  ear  and 
to  the  "  memory  of  the  heart,"  but  the  intellect  is  warned 
against  them.  A  parasitic  naturalism  is  meanwhile  feeding 
its  own  life  with  the  grace  which  it  supplants.  Besides  all 
that  such  ethics  can  give  us,  we  must  have  the  whole  of  Chris- 
tianity too,  if  we  would  be  Christians. 

These  results,  we  think,  follow,  when  an  ethical  system 
usurj^s  the  supremacy  in  the  construction  of  Christian  theology. 
We  do  not  mean  to  intimate  that  any  evangelical  men  accept 
these  consequences  ;  only  avowed  rationalists  can  do  this. 
Nor  do  we  deny  to  ethics  an  appropriate  place  in  the  system  of 


EFFECT    OF    EXTREMES    IN    ETHICS    AND    DIVINITY.  159 

theology  and  in  preaching.     Even  the  extreme  ethical  theories 
have  helped  to  counteract  some  vicious  ultraisms,  to  check 
some  excesses,  and  to  lop  ofP  some  excrescences.     They  are 
counter   to   some  extreme  contraries.     Antinomianism  is  re- 
butted by  the  position  that  holiness  is  necessary  to  real  faith. 
"  Unregenerate  doings"  have  been  supplanted  by  the  Gospel 
call  to  immediate  repentance.     The  antij^odes  to  an  arbitrary 
will  of  God  is  an  equally  arbitrary  will  of  man.     A  meta- 
physical ability  is  set  over  against  an  equally  metaphysical  in- 
ability.    Self-love  has  its  claims  against  the  demand  that  we 
should  be  willing  to  be  cast  off  for  ever.     A  supralapsarian 
theology  reacts  into  the  irrational  dogma  that  sin  is  no  part  of 
the  divine  plan.     From  the  abhorrent  notion  that  infants  are 
actually  condenmed  to  eternal  death  for  Adam's  sin,  some 
have  found  relief    by  saying  that  infants  are  only  animals. 
The  one  extreme,  that  God  does  all  for  himself,  as  self,  calls  up 
the  other,  that  God's  whole  aim  is  the  happiness  of  his  creatures. 
None  of  these  extremes  can  be  held  or  preached.     Such  ethics 
and  divinity  counteract  each  other.     The  real  power  of  our 
theology  is  not  found  in  either,  but  rather  in  giving  us    a 
Gospel  whicli  can  be  preached  ;  in  its  call  to  immediate  re- 
pentance undei-  the  influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit ;  in  its  offer 
of  eternal  life  in  Christ  to  all  on  the  ground  of  his  atonement 
made  for  all ;  in  its  doctrine  of  grace  rather  than  of  ability  ; 
in  its  exaltation  of  the  spiritual  rather  than  of  the  natural ;  in 
its  love  and  not  self-love  ;  and  in  its  harmony  with  rathei 
than  in  its  deviations  from  the  older  confessions.* 


*  The  true  New  England  theology  is  not  to  be  held  responsible  for  such 
an  ethical  theory,  as  the  ultimate  theory  in  theology,  or  as  the  controlling 
theory  in  constructing  the  system  of  theology.  Such  a  theory  is  abstracted"^ 
and  not  deduced,  from  the  fathei-s  of  New  England  theology ;  it  is  really 
taken  from  a  philosophy  which  runs  counter  to  their  real  spirit,  and  is  im- 
posed upon  them  by  an  arbitrary  logic.  Through  their  speculations  are  to 
be  traced  two  entirely  distinct  tendencies;  the  one,  the  highest-toned  Cal- 
vinism in  the  matter  of  Divine  Sovereignty ;  the  other,  the  formulas  of 
natural  ethics.  But  it  was  the  doctrine  of  Divine  Sovereignty,  and  not 
mere  ethical  truth,  which  was  at  the  basis  of  their  systems  and  gave  the 
tone  to  their  preaching. 


ICO         THE    IDEA    OF    CHRISTIAN    THEOLOGY    AS    A    SYSTEM. 

When  such  an  ethical  system  conies  out  of  its  proper  place, 
as  a  counteracting  agency  to  an  equally  abstract  theology,  and 
usurps  authority  over  the  whole  realm  of  Christian  truth,  we 
say  it  has  mistaken  its  office  and  place.  It  can  have  something 
to  say  only  in  a  narrow  sphere  of  theology,  the  point  where 
divine  and  human  agency  come  together,  with  the  applicatit'u 
of  the  Christian  system,  taken  for  granted,  to  the  heart  and  life. 
When  it  assumes  more  than  this,  we  bring  against  it  the  whole 
objective  force  of  the  Christian  revelation,  and  say,  thus  far, 
and  no  farther.  Then,  if  we  w^ould  not  make  Ciirist  the  bonds- 
man of  nature,  we  are  obliged  to  say,  that  these  ethical  for- 
mulas are  not  our  ultimate  truths  ;  that  they  give  us  practical 
and  not  essential  verity  ;  that  its  phrases  are  popular  and  not 
scientific,  the  language  of  the  understanding  and  not  of  the 
reason,  of  the  common  ear  and  not  of  divine  oracles,  nor  of 
scientific  theology.  The  terms  of  our  older  creeds  are  some- 
times sj^oken  of  in  a  patronizing  way,  and  we  are  told  that  we 
may  be  allowed  to  use  them,  if  we  will  be  careful  to  explain 
them  by  tlie  light  of  the  advanced  state  of  intellectual  and 
moral  pliilosophy  in  the  nineteenth  century.  But  it  is  at  least 
doubtful  whether,  in  such  phrases  as  original  sin,  justification 
by  faith,  and  union  with  Christ,  there  is  not  moi-e  of  the  solid 
simplicity  of  both  theology  and  philosophy,  than  in  the  posi- 
tion, that  we  must  choose  the  highest  happiness  of  the  univei'se 
as  our  supreme  good,  with  full  power  to  the  contrary.  Such 
ethics,  as  compared  even  with  the  Apostles'  Creed,  is  an  essen- 
tially superficial  affair,  made  on  the  basis  of  philosophy  which 
abjures  metaphysics,  and  finds  all  truth  in  common  sense. 

Nor  can  such  an  ethical  system  satisfy  man's  profoundest 
wants,  or  solve  the  real  problems  of  his  destiny.  It  answers 
the  high  questions  of  our  fate  to  the  ear  and  not  to  the  heart. 
It  is  mute  before  our  deepest  experience,  of  conscious  guilt 
for  our  radical  sinfulness,  and  of  joyful  freedom  in  a  holi- 
ness which  our  wills  did  not  and  could  not  originate.  It 
makes  morality  and  religion  a  surface  matter ;  not  what  we 
are,  but  what  we  do,  becomes  the  standard.  In  the  Bible,  if 
seen  at  all,  it  is  only  as  fiitting  on  the  surface  of  here  and 


POSITION    OF    EVANGELICAL    DIVINES    OF    GEEMANT.  161 

there  some  solitary  texts.  In  historical  theology  it  is  not  at 
home  excepting  witli  Arius,  Felagius,  and  the  Armiuians  ; 
and  in  the  Christian  symbols,  from  Xice  to  Westminster,  it  is 
fomid  only  as  a  contingency.  And  in  the  conflicts  of  Chris- 
tianity with  its  present  subtle  forces,  if  we  plant  oar  theology 
on  such  a  basis,  we  cannot  withstand  the  pressure  of  the 
pantheistic  idealism  on  the  one  extreme,  or  of  solid  mate- 
rialism on  the  other,  or  of  the  historical  tradition  in  which 
the  Papacy  claims  its  power.  For  such  an  ethical  system 
does  not  meet  the  speculative  demand,  which  pantheism  tries 
to  satisfy ;  nor  has  it  a  body  of  facts  to  oppose  to  the  material 
realities  ;  and  it  is  wholly  cut  off  from  the  line  of  Christian 
development  which  Rome  vainly  pretends  to  be  its  own.  It 
does  not  give  us  that  objective,  historical  basis,  nor  that  mys- 
terious depth  and  awe,  nor  those  physical  relations  of  both 
sin  and  redemption,  which  are  essential  to  the  permanency 
and  authority  of  the  Christian  system.  Here  are  contiicts 
and  questions  our  fathers  dreamed  not  of ;  what  might  have 
satisfied  their  exigencies,  taking  as  they  did  the  whole  of 
objective  Christianity  for  granted,  cannot  meet  the  necessi- 
ties of  our  contests  with  the  combined  forces  of  s})iritualisra, 
materialism,  and  traditionalism. 

In  assigning  this  position  to  ethics  in  its  relations  to  Chris- 
tian theology  we  are  borne  out,  not  only  by  the  growing  con- 
victions of  sober  thinkers  among  ourselves,  but  also  by  the 
verdict  and  metliods  of  the  wliole  evangelical  school  of  the 
recent  German  theology.  They  have  grappled  with  the 
questions  just  beginning  to  agitate  us.  Whatever  their  other 
differences,  they  have  all  renounced  the  position  that  ethics 
can  lawfully  give  shape  to  the  truths  of  Christianity. 
Schleiermacher,  Neander,  Miiller,  Tholuck,  Dorner  and  the 
authors  of  recent  treatises  in  doctrinal  theology,  Twesten, 
Ebrard,  Thomasius,  Martensen,  Liebner,  and  Hoffmann,  make 
Christ  and  his  redemption  the  centre  of  the  system,  as  con- 
trasted with  any  ethical  scheme. 

And  here  is  the  true  point  of  contrast  and  comparisons 
between  a  svsteni  of  theology  which  finds  its  constructive 
11 


162  THE   IDEA    OF    CHRISTIAN    THEOLOGY    AS    A    SYSTEM. 

principles  in  ethics,  and  one  wliicli  finds  these  principles  in 
Christ,  It  is  in  what  we  have  endeavored  to  vindicate  as  the 
true  idea  of  a  system  of  theology.  By  scripture,  by  history, 
by  all  the  symbols  of  our  faith,  by  all  the  avowals  of  spiritual 
experience,  the  Christian  system  is  proved  to  be  more  than, 
and  distinct  from,  any  mere  scheme  of  moral  government. 
It  can  subordinate  ethics  to  itself,  but  it  cannot  subordinate 
itself  to  ethics  without  self-annihilation.  It  is  theological 
and  not  ethical,  in  its  inmost  nature.  It  is  a  system  of 
divine  realities,  having  an  objective  validity  as  well  as  a 
subjective  influence.  All  in  it  is  from,  for,  and  to  God  ;  the 
triune  deity  is  at  its  foundation,  manifested  and  revealed  in 
the  wdiole  of  history,  and  centering  in  the  Incarnation. 
Kesting  on  this  basis,  the  Christian  system  views  the  human 
race,  not  as  a  mere  collection  of  separate  units,  but  as  exist- 
ing in  two  prime  relations,  that  to  the  first,  and  that  to  the 
second  Adam.  The  w^hole  Christian  doctrine  of  sin  runs 
back  to  our  union  with  the  first  Adam  in  the  fall ;  the  whole 
Cliristian  doctrine  of  redemption  runs  back  to  our  relation  to 
the  second  Adam,  which  is  the  Lord  from  heaven,  in  his 
Incarnation  and  Atonement.  And  these  relations  are  spirit- 
ual and  moral,  and  not  merely  physical ;  they  are  thus  set 
forth  in  the  fifth  chapter  of  Paul's  epistle  to  the  Romans, 
which  contains  the  final  revealed  facts  on  both  these  points, 
and  the  heart  of  the  difference  between  Christianity  and 
ethics.  A  moral  system  gives  us,  at  the  utmost,  man  as  he 
might  be  in  2^uris  naturalihus  ;  the  Christian  system  starts 
with  man  in  his  real  position,  lost  and  needing  redemption. 
The  former  runs  back  only  to  our  acts  of  choice  ;  the  Gospel 
rests  in  our  union  with  Christ:  the  freedom  of  the  one  is  the 
bare  power  of  choice,  the  freedom  of  the  other  is  in  a  glad 
submission  to  Jesus.  The  one  knows  only  pardon  for  sin,  the 
other  reunites  us  to  Christ,  by  real,  yet  mystical  bonds,  and 
thus  justifies  as  well  as  pardons :  the  righteousness  of  the 
former  is  constituted  by  our  wills,  the  righteousness  of  the 
latter  is  of  God  through  faith  in  Christ  alone.  The  one 
vindicates    God's  government   on   naturalistic   grounds,   the 


NEED    OF    COMING    NEARER   TO    CHRIST.  163 

other  by  means  of  God's  own  plan.  The  Gospel  rests  in 
facts  and  snbmits  to  mysteries,  "  n.ngrasped  by  minds  cre- 
ate ;  "  ethics  would  make  all  clear  to  the  understanding  by  a 
logical  definition.  Tlie  working  power  of  ethics  is  in  tlie 
sense  of  duty  ;  the  weight  of  the  Gospel  is  in  its  suj^ernatural 
ti'uths,  in  the  sense  of  sin,  in  the  love  of  God,  in  the  love  of 
Jesus. 

"  Talk  they  of  morals  !  Oh  !  thou  bleeding  Love, 
The  maker  of  new  morals  to  mankind  ; 
The  grand  morality  is  love  to  Thee." 

The  one  makes  the  good  of  the  creature  to  be  the  end  of 
the  system,  the  other  the  glory  of  God  made  extant  and 
supreme,  that  God  may  be  all  in  all.  The  one  is  a  psychol- 
ogy ;  the  other  is  a  Christology. 

Yon  have  called  me.  Fathers  and  Brethren  of  the  Board  of 
Directors  of  this  Seminaiy,  to  tlie  responsible  post  of  a 
teacher  of  Christian  tlieology,  at  a  time  wlien  there  are  in- 
creasing divisions  within  the  Church,  both  ecclesiastical  and 
doctrinal,  and  when  the  powers  of  superstition  and  unbelief 
are  assailing  our  common  Evangelical  Christianity.  To  allay 
its  internal  contests,  and  to  oppose  its  inveterate  foes,  the 
Church  needs  to  come  nearer  to  Christ.  As  He  is  the  re- 
storer of  our  peace,  so  should  He  be  the  restorer  of  our 
science  and  theology.  I  have  spoken  my  mind  frankly  on 
some  of  the  great  topics  which  agitate  and  divide  us.  I  have 
spoken  with  the  deepest  conviction  as  to  what  is  our  vital 
need.  I  may  have  crossed  some  prejudices,  and  have  pleased 
no  extreme  and  no  partisan ;  but  I  have  spoken  only  against 
a  system,  and  not  against  p")arties  or  men.  To  mediate  be- 
tween our  extremes  is  our  vital  need,  and  such  mediation  can 
only  be  found  in  Christ,  and  not  in  an  ethical  system.  As 
the  central  idea  of  the  whole  Christian  system  is  in  media- 
tion, so  should  this  be  the  spirit  of  our  theology,  the  spirit  of 
our  lives.  There  is  a  higher  unity,  which  is  not  the  indefi- 
nite middle  between  the  two  extremes.  There  is  a  golden 
mean,  where  discord  is  lost  in  concord.     The  pendulum,  as  it 


104  THE    IDEA    OF    CHRISTIAN    THEOLOGY    AS    A    SYSTEM. 

oscillates  from  end  to  end,  ever  passes  over  its  centre,  while 
it  moves  the  hands  of  time.  There  is  a  common  orthodoxy, 
as  we'll  as  these  embittered  antagonisms.  Whatever  partisans 
may  say,  we  are  not  forced  to  be  either  Antinomians  or  Armin- 
ians :  vye  are  not  left  to  the  alternative  of  blind  fate  or  irra- 
tional contingency  ;  wc  are  not  shnt  up  to  a  divine  efficiency 
which  makes  God  the  author  of  sin,  or  to  a  human  efficiency 
which  makes  man  the  author  of  holiness  ;  to  an  imputation  of 
Adam's  sin  without  personal  participation,  or  to  a  denial  of 
all  moral  connection  between  the  race  and  its  head  ;  to  say- 
ing, that  all  sin  is  sinning,  or  that  all  sin  is  in  its  essence  a 
passive  state ;  to  the  dilemma,  that  sin  is  the  necessary  means 
of  the  greatest  good,  or  that  God  could  not  prevent  it  in  a 
moral  system  ;  to  a  theoiy  of  the  atonement  which  makes  it 
either  a  spectacle  or  a  bargain,  a  mere  means  of  moral  im- 
pression or  the  literal  infliction  of  the  strictest  distributive 
justice ;  to  a  wholly  external  or  a  merely  internal  justifica- 
tion ;  to  a  redemption  without  regeneration,  or  a  regeneration 
without  justification  ;  to  the  alternative  of  a  theory  of  virtue 
which  makes  happiness  its  end,  or  to  a  theory  which  makes  it 
consist  in  a  merely  abstract  rectitude ;  to  a  Trinity  without 
unity,  or  a  unity  without  the  Trinity  ;  to  an  exclusively  im- 
manent or  a  merely  manifested  Trinity.  Nor  yet,  in  fine, 
are  we  left  only  the  choice  between  a  theology  of  the  cove- 
nants and  a  bare  moral  system.  These  extremes  annul  each 
other,  and  prepare  the  way  for  Christ.  Between  them  He  is, 
as  it  were,  crucified  afresh,  as  of  old  between  the  two  male- 
factors ;  it  is  in  Him,  and  not  in  them,  that  the  Church  is  to 
trust ;  it  is  in  Him,  and  not  in  them,  that  the  life  of  the  soul 
and  the  light  of  theology  are  to  be  found.  Both  the  divine 
and  human  elements  of  theology  centre  and  are  harmonized 
in  the  person  and  work  of  the  God-man.  He  is  the  only 
mediator:  He  is  the  only  reconciler.  For  every  soul  that 
trusts  in  Him  he  solves  the  whole  problem  of  sin  and  of  re- 
demption ;  in  every  living  heart  he  is  doing  every  day  and 
hour,  what  our  theology  has  been  seeking  after,  wandering, 
alas !    so  far   from  Him.     The  organon  of   Christianity,  of 


CHRISTIAN    THEOLOGY   NEGLECTED    AND    DESPISED.  165 

tlieology,  of  history,  of  the  iiiuverse,  is  to  be  found  in  Him,  if 
found  at  all.  And  when  our  science  returns  to  liiin,  when  it 
comes  and  rests  in  the  Divine  word,  the  Divine  fieason,  the 
Divine  Reconciler,  then  we  shall  have  a  complete  philosophy, 
and  a  complete  theology,  and  they  shall  both  be  one.  For,  as 
Lord  Bacon  has  said,  in  the  very  spirit  of  the  wisest  induc- 
tion, all  things  "  in  time  and  eternity  have  respect  to  the 
Mediator,  which  is  the  great  mystery  and  perfect  centre  of 
all  God's  ways,  and  to  which  all  his  other  works  and  wonders 
do  but  serve  and  refer."  And,  as  a  higher  inspiration  has 
declared.  He  is  the  Alpha  and  the  Omega,  the  beginning  and 
the  end,  the  first  and  the  last ;  His  goings  forth  have  been 
ever  of  old ;  it  pleased  the  Father  that  in  Him  should  all  ful- 
ness dwell ;  and  in  Him  all  things  are  to  be  made  new,  a  new 
heavens  and  a  new  earth,  wdierein  dwelleth  righteousness. 

And  when  the  system  of  Christian  theology  shall  be  seen 
by  the  eye  of  science,  as  well  as  by  the  eye  of  faith,  to  be 
rooted  and  grounded  in  Him,  then  shall  it  be  redeemed  from 
neglect,  and  elevated  again  to  its  true  position,  as  the  queen 
of  the  sciences,  their  sacred  port.  Every  base  thing  of  human 
passion,  and  every  high  imagination  of  unsanctified  reason, 
lias  raised  its  fi'ont  against  the  holy  majesty  of  divine  truth. 
She  has  been  dishonored,  defamed,  yea,  despised.  Every 
crude  science  has  entered  the  lists  ao-ainst  her.  The  records 
of  the  solid  rocks  of  earth,  and  the  registry  of  the  hosts  of 
heaven,  have  been  invoked  to  bear  witness  against  her  rever- 
end rights.  Literature,  science,  and  art  oft  thin.k  themselves 
not  "  poor  enough  "  to  pay  their  homage  unto  her,  who,  as 
Queen  of  the  Sciences,  once  sat  in  the  seat  of  princes,  and 
gave  laws  to  the  state,  and  wisdom  to  philosophy,  and  ruled 
the  wisest  of  our  race  in  their  inmost  thouo-hts  and  beinoj ! 
Now,  like  her  Divine  Master,  she  seems  to  have  descended 
for  a  time  from  her  regal  state,  and  laid  aside  her  robes  of 
majesty,  while  the  long  pomp  of  worldly  princij^alities  and 
powers  is  passing  by,  regardless  of  her  venerable  honor. 
Yet,  wnth  proud  humility,  never  can  she  forget  or  disown 
her  celestial   origin  and   rights,  but  still,  with   tiie  voice  of 


166  THE    IDExi    OF    CHKISTIAN   THEOLOGY    AS    A    SYbTEM. 

eternal  love  and  wisdom,  calls  ever  as  of  old  in  the  name  of 
Christ :  Come,  learn  of  me  ;  1  am  the  way  and  the  truth  and 
the  life  ;  come,  ye  weary,  and  I  will  give  you  rest;  come,  ye 
lost,  and  I  will  give  to  you  salvation ;  come,  ye  discordant 
sciences,  and  I  will  teach  you  a  celestial  concord  ;  come,  all 
dispersed  by  the  confusion  of  mortal  tongues,  and  learn  the 
imperishable  language  of  the  immortals.  For  this  I  left  my 
native  sphere,  and  chose  thy  earth  my  place  of  exile,  for  thy 
good,  that  I  might  give  to  science  its  last  principles,  to  art 
its  highest  themes,  to  literature  its  divinity,  to  man  his  God, 
to  the  race  its  redemption,  that  thus  through  Christ  all  things 
might  be  reconciled  unto  God,  whether  they  be  things  on 
earth  or  things  in  heaven. 


THE    NEW 

LATITUDINARIANS   OP  ENGLAND.' 


Christianity  and  pliilosophy,  faith  and  reason,  have  been 
in  a  constant  process  of  conflict  and  of  attempted  adjust- 
ments. In  this  contest,  the  aim  of  philosophy  as  opposed  to 
Christianity  has  always  been  to  show,  that  the  alleged  Chris- 
tian facts  and  verities  are  not  final  or  real ;  that  they  are  only 
partial  and  imperfect  statements  of  more  universal  truths 
which  reason  is  to  substitute  for  them.  The  victory  of  reason 
would  then,  of  course,  banish  Christianity  into  the  realm  of 
the  mythical  or  the  imaginary.  The  aim  of  Christianity,  on 
the  other  hand,  has  been  to  defend  the  revealed  faith,  as  con- 
taining the  best,  the  final,  and  the  necessary  system  for  the 
human  race.  And  the  victory  of  Christianity  would  not 
annul,  but  only  rectify  human  reason  ;  it  would,  hi  fact,  con- 
sist in  showing  that  reason  itself  demands  such  a  specific 
revelation  to  solve  the  ultimate  problems  of  human  nature 
and  destiny.  Thus  far  in  this  warfare,  the  Christian  faith 
has  been  the  stable  as  well  as  progressive  party,  while  infidel- 
ity has  been  always  changing  its  front,  and  prophesying 
some  future  victory.  But  the  weight  of  historic  reality  and 
historic  progress  has  remained  with  the  Christian  Church, 
which  has  never  even  remained  in  its  old  entrenchments,  but 

*  From  the  American  Theological  Review,  for  April,  1861.  Recent  Inqui- 
ries in  Theology,  by  Eminent  Engliah  Churchmen  ;  being  "Essays  and  Re- 
views." Second  American,  from  the  second  London  edition.  With  an 
Appendix.  Edited,  with  an  Introduction,  by  Rev.  Frederick  H.  Hedge, 
D.D.  Boston  :  Walker,  Wise  &  Co.  1861.  Pp.  xiv.  498.  The  Westmin- 
stei'  Jiei'iew,  No.  CXLVI.     Oct.,  1860.    Art.  1,  Neo- Christianity. 


168  THE    NEW    LATITUDINAKIANS    OF    ENGLAND. 

has  been  always  planting  its  standards  in  the  camps  of  its 
foes. 

Each  of  these  two  contesting  parties  claims  of  course,  when 
consistent,  to  have  a  final  and  universal  sj^stem  of  truth.  But 
this  system  has  been,  in  each  successive  age,  a  different  one 
with  the  opponents  of  Christianity,  while  the  Christian  system 
has  always  stood  firm  upon  certain  simple  and  well-defined 
positions.  Every  new  system  of  philosophy,  metaphysical, 
moral,  or  physical,  represents  a  new  stadium  in  the  progress 
of  human  thought,  in  the  knowledge  which  man  has  of  him- 
self or  of  the  natural  world  ;  and  each  successive  system,  when 
thoroughgoing,  has  claimed  to  be  ultimate,  and  has  baptized 
itself  with  the  name  of  human  reason.  In  order  to  make  good 
its  assumj^tions,  it  must  of  course  enter  into  conflict  with  that 
one  religious  system,  which  has  the  historic  prestige  and  posi- 
tion, and  whicli  also  claims  universalit}^ ;  and  the  cliaracter  of 
this  pliilosophic  assault  has  varied  with  the  postulates  of  each 
philosophic  system.  But  the  nature  of  the  Christian  defence 
has  been  unvarying  on  all  the  main  points  on  which  it 
rests  and  must  rest,  as  the  one  divine  system  of  redemption. 
Though  the  doctrines  and  polity  of  the  Church,  internally, 
have  been  subject  to  change  of  form  and  re-statement,  to  meet 
heresies,  schisms,  and  objections,  yet,  as  against  infidelity,  the 
attitude  of  Christianity  has  been  uniform,  simple,  and  un- 
changing. It  has  always  claimed  to  be  a  specific,  divine  rev- 
elation, supernatural  in  its  origin,  aimounced  in  prophecy, 
attested  by  miracles,  recorded  in  inspired  Scriptures,  center- 
ing in  the  person  and  work  of  the  God-man,  and  having  for  its 
object  the  redemption  of  the  world  from  sin.  It  presupposes 
a  personal  God,  and  anticipates  a  future  state  of  rewai-d  and 
punishment.  On  these  positions  it  has  always  stood  :  here  it 
has  been  exclusive — exclusive,  just  because  it  is  a  final  and 
universal  system.  As  soon  as  it  abandons  these  cardinal  posi- 
tions, it  abandons  its  claim  to  supremacy  and  ultimate  author- 
ity, and  is  resolved  into  some  more  general  movement,  into 
some  pliilosophic  genei-alization.  Its  revelation  is  specific, 
and  not  to  be  resolved  into  general  reason ;  its  Book  is  in- 


THE   CONSTANT    Am    OF   INFIDELITY.  1G9 

spired,  and  no  other  book  is  thus  divinely  inspired  ;  its  pro- 
phecies are  out  of  the  category  of  historic  conjectures  or 
morbid  clairvoyance ;  its  miracles  are  above  and  beyond  the 
course  of  nature  ;  its  Redeemer  has,  as  the  God-man,  a  specific 
and  unmatched  dignity,  and  there  is  no  otlier  such  union  of 
divinity  and  humanity  ;  and  his  is  the  only  name  given  under 
heaven  amongst  men,  whereby  we  must  be  saved.  The 
Christian  faith  claims,  and  has  always  claimed,  that  there  are 
limits  here  which  cannot  be  jiassed,  without  passing  outside  of 
the  sunlight  into  a  penumbra  or  the  shades ;  that  the  mere 
abstract  and  generalizing  notions  which  philosojDhy  would  sub- 
stitute for  these  realities,  are  ghostly  shapes,  without  essential 
vitality  or  reality.  They  lack  the  signature  of  life :  there  is 
no  divine  breath  within  them.  They  are  the  masquerades  of 
imagination,  and  not  the  living  forms  of  real  truth. 

The  constant  aim  of  infidelity,  on  the  other  hand,  its  tena- 
cious purpose  in  the  midst  of  all  the  changes  of  philosophic 
systems  and  methods,  has  been,  and  must  be,  to  bring  down 
the  Christian  faith  from  this  position  of  supremacy  and  uni- 
versality ;  to  show  that  on  these  points  the  Christian  system 
has  no  specific  and  mirivalled  eminence.  We  speak  of  infi- 
delity here  of  course  in  its  higher  forms  and  aspiirations  ;  of  an 
infidelity  which  is  not  content  with  incidental  and  fragmen- 
tary criticisms  and  objections,  but  which  really  grapples  with 
the  subject  in  its  larger  relations  ;  of  an  infidelity  which  tries 
to  answer  the  question.  What  is  the  highest,  truest,  and  final 
system  for  man  ?  The  aim  of  such  infidelity  has  ever  been  to 
eliminate  from  all  the  specific  Christian  truths  their  fixed  im- 
port ;  to  resolve  the  facts  of  revelation,  inspiration,  j)rophecy, 
miracle,  redemption,  incarnation,  and  regeneration,  into  some 
more  general  and  abstract  notions.  A  philosophic  unbeliever 
resolves  revelation  into  intuition,  miracles  into  the  course  of 
nature  j?Z?^s  myths,  inspiration  into  genius,  prophecy'  into  saga- 
cious historic  conjectures,  redemption  into  the  victory  of  mind 
over  matter,  the  incarnation  into  an  ideal  union  of  humanity 
with  divinity  realized  in  no  one  person,  the  Trinity  into  a 
world  process,  and  innnortal  life  into  the  perpetuity  of  spirit 


170  THE    NEW    LATITUDINARIANS    OF   ENGLAND. 

bereft  of  personal  subsistence.  lie  takes  the  wondrous  vobime 
in  which  all  these  truths  and  facts  are  embodied  and  em- 
balmed, and  which  on  that  very  account  is  the  unique  wonder 
and  the  very  marvel  of  all  literature,  and  demands  that  it  shall 
be  interpreted  just  like  any  other  book,  not  merely  in  its 
words  but  in  its  inmost  sense  ;  that  its  histories,  its  prophecies, 
its  miracles,  its  sacred  truths,  shall  be  subjected  to  the  stand- 
ard by  which  we  try  the  words  and  explain  the  sense  of  Hero- 
dotus and  Plato,  of  Yirgil  and  Tacitus,  of  Dante  and  Bacon. 
All  in  it  that  is  supernatural,  all  that  discriminates  it  as  a 
specilTc  revelation,  is  to  be  adjudicated  by  natural  laws  and 
reason.  And  the  ^jhilosophical  unbeliever  knows  full  well 
that,  if  this  radical  point  is  gained,  he  has  gained  his  cause  ; 
that  he  has  resolved  specific  Christian  truth  into  something 
else, — into  his  own  system  ;  and  that  it  is  that  system  which  is 
left,  while  Christianity  has  been  sublimated  in  the  process ; 
for  no  one  can  resolve  these  specific  truths  and  facts  of  Chris- 
tianity into  mere  general  ideas  or  idealizing  formulas,  without 
annulling  their  nature,  and  robbing  them  of  their  formative 
principle,  just  as  a  plant  or  animal  loses  its  specific  vital  force 
when  decomposed  into  its  inorganic  elements.  Especially  has 
the  whole  form  and  pressure  of  modern  unbelief  run  in  tin's 
direction.  It  has  come  to  its  most  distinct  expression  in  the 
conflict  between  Christianity  and  Pantheism.  It  has  come  to 
consciousness  in  this  contest ;  for,  to  absorb  the  concrete  in 
the  abstract,  to  deny  real  being  to  any  thing  individual  and 
personal,  to  resolve  specific  truth  into  spiritual  ideas  as  its  last 
expression,  is  the  whole  method  and  art  of  pantheism;  and 
hence  all  this  anti-Christian  movement  runs  into  it  by  a  kind 
of  logical  necessity. 

The  significance  of  the  volume  of  Essays  and  Reviews 
which  we  have  put  at  the  head  of  this  article,  is  in  the  fact  that 
this  general  tendency  is  supposed  to  be  here  represented  by 
men  of  high  position  in  the  Church  of  England,  where  we 
have  not  been  wont  to  look  for  such  things.  If  these  Essays 
had  been  published  by  avowed  unbelievers,  they  would  not 
have  made  any  stir.      There  is  nothing  new,  nothing  that  has 


POSITION  OF  THE  AUTHORS  OF  '''  ESSAYS  AND  REVIEWS."     171 

not  been  said  a  hundred  times  before,  either  in  the  way  of 
criticism  or  of  theoi-y.  Many  of  the  same  objections  have 
been  made  and  answered  in  every  century  of  the  Christian 
church.  Far  abler  attaclvs  upon  Christianity  have  also  been 
made  even  in  England,  to  say  nothing  of  Germany,  without 
discomposing  the  steadfastness  of  Christians,  without  enliven- 
ing the  hopes  of  infidelity.  But  this  volume,  a  series  of  dis- 
connected essays,  is  in  its  fourth  edition  in  England,  and  in 
its  second,  under  a  more  definite  title,  in  this  country,  and  has 
called  forth  comments  from  all  the  leading  reviews  of  both 
countries.  Whence  this  eager  interest  in  a  volume  with  so 
unpretending  a  name  ? 

A  part  of  it  is  owing  to  the  position  of  the  authors  in  the 
world  of  letters  and  in  the  Church  of  England.  Dr.  Temple 
is  Chaplain  in  Ordinary  to  the  Queen,  and  Dr.  Arnold's  suc- 
cessor as  Head  Master  of  Kugby,  one  of  the  most  important 
schools  in  England ;  Dr.  Rowland  Williams,  a  graduate  of 
Cambridge,  is  Vice-Principal  and  Professor  of  Hebrew  in 
St.  David's  College,  Lampeter,  a  training  school  for  English 
clergymen ;  Paden  Powell,  lately  deceased,  was  Professor  of 
Geometry  in  Oxford  University  ;  Mr.  Wilson,  vicar  of  Great 
Stouji'hton,  was  one  of  the  four  tutors  wdio  remonstrated  so 
strongly  against  IS^o.  XC.  of  the  Oxford  Tracts  for  the  Times, 
as  containing  principles  inconsistent  with  subscription  to  the 
Articles,  and  he  now  advocates  the  lowest  terms  of  subscrip- 
tion ;  Mr.  Goodwin,  a  graduate  of  Cambridge,  refused,  it  is 
said,  to  take  orders,  from  an  honest  conviction  that  his  views 
were  inconsistent  with  the  clerical  profession  ;  Mr.  Pattison 
and  Mr.  Jowett  are  both  teachers  in  Oxford ;  the  latter  is 
Pegius  Professor  of  Greek,  and  is  exerting  an  influence 
second  to  that  of  no  other  man  in  educating  the  young  men 
of  that  Uni^'ersity ;  Mr.  Pattison  has  just  been  elected  rector 
of  Lincoln  College,  Oxford.  Several  of  these  writers  had 
contributed  to  previous  volumes  of  Oxford  Essays.  Dr. 
Temple  wrote  there  on  National  Education,  and  now  writes 
on  a  w^ider  theme,  the  Education  of  the  World ;  Professor 
Powell  wrote  on  Natural  Theology,  and  here  assails  the  Evi- 


172  THE   NEW   LATITUDmAKIANS    OF    ENGLAND. 

dences ;  Mr,  Wilson's  previous  essay  on  Schemes  of  Compre- 
hension is  followed  by  his  present  theory  of  a  "  Multitudi- 
nist"  church;  Mr.  Goodwin  advances  from  the  Papyri  of 
Egypt  to  the  Mosaic  Cosmogon3\  Dr.  Rowland  Williams 
attained  repute  by  his  "  Dialogue  on  the  Knowledge  of  the 
Supreme  Lord,  or,  Christianity  and  Hinduism,"  published 
in  1S56.  Dr.  Jowett's  commentary  and  essays  on  Thessa- 
lonians,  Galatians,  and  Romans  foreshadowed  many  of  the 
views  which  he  here  distinctly  announces.  Professor  Powell's 
previous  works  on  science  and  revelation  contained  substan- 
tially the  same  principles,  though  stated  perhaps  in  a  more 
shaded  outline.  These  writers,  then,  rej)resent,  at  least  in  a 
fair  degree,  the  present  tone  of  thought  and  criticism  prevail- 
ing in  certain  highly  cultivated  circles  in  England,  particu- 
larly in  Oxford.  The  work  has  been  said  to  represent  the 
so-called  Broad  Church  party ;  but  Stanley,  Maurice,  and 
Kingsley  have  certainly  not  yet  avowed  some  of  the  more 
objectionable  views  contained  in  it ;  and  neither  the  philoso- 
phy of  Coleridge,  nor  the  theology  of  Charles  Julius  Hare, 
has  any  representative  among  these  seven  champions  of  "  a 
liberal  faith,"  which  the  American  editor  describes  as 
"  reverently  listening,  if  here  and  there  it  may  catch  some 
accents  of  the  Eternal  voice  amid  tlie  confused  dialects  of 
Scripture,  yet  not  confounding  the  latter  with  the  former ; 
expecting  to  find  in  criticism,  guided  by  a  true  philosophy, 
the  key  to  revelation  :  in  revelation,  the  sanction  and  condign 
expression  of  philosophic  truth." 

Another  source  of  the  interest  felt  in  these  Essays  is  de- 
rived from  the  connection  of  the  authors  with  the  venerable 
University  at  Oxford,  which  for  the  past  thirty  years  has 
been  the  chief  seat  and  citadel  of  that  form  of  Anglican 
theology,  most  opposed  to  Protestantism  and  Rationalism. 
The  Tractarian  movement  was  to  restore  the  faith;  it  has 
ended  in  strengthening  Rome  on  the  one  hand,  and  evoking 
this  rationalistic  reaction  on  the  other  hand.  This  was  well 
nigh  inevitable.  For  tradition  cannot  solve  the  questions 
raised  in  the  nineteenth  century :    the  episcopal   succession 


VAKIETY   OF    SUBJECTS    AND    UNITY    OF    ACVI.  173 

does  not  necessarily  confer  either  the  learning  needed  to  re- 
pl}'  to  criticism,  or  the  grace  which  is  snperior  to  doubts; 
the  claim  of  sacramental  grace  rather  provokes  than  disarms 
the  spirit  of  free  inquiry  :  the  consent  of  all  the  fathers  of 
the  ancient,  and  even  of  the  Anglican,  church  does  not  meet 
the  inquiries  raised  by  the  perpetual  conflict  between  the 
Book  of  Common  Prayer  and  the  Tliirty-nine  Articles  :  and 
even  if  the  authority  of  the  church  be  proved  harmonious 
with  the  authoritative  Scriptures,  there  still  remains  the  ques- 
tion between  revelation  and  reason.  The  Oxford  school  ap- 
pealed first  and  last  to  church  authority  :  the  Evangelical 
school  responded  by  an  appeal  to  the  authority  of  the  Eible  ; 
and  now,  their  conflict  has  called  forth  an  adversary  to  both, 
with  which  neither  is  able  to  cope,  appealing  to  the  authority 
of  Reason  as  ultimate.  Thus  it  must  be,  where  criticism  and 
reason  are  ignored.  The  attempt  to  suppress  them,  by  arbi- 
trary authority,  gives  them  new  life  and  strength.  Oxford 
now  listens  to  Jow^ett  and  Temple,  and  has  just  ceased  to 
hear  the  voice  of  Powell ;  thirty  years  ago,  it  was  hearing 
JSTewman,  descanting  on  the  development  which  led  him  to 
Rome,  and  Pusey,  pressing  baptismal  regeneration  by  the 
authority  of  tradition.  And  much  of  the  force  and  influence 
of  these  Essays  are  found  in  their  constant  opposition  to  the 
revival  of  patristic,  and  even  mediaeval  authority  in  the  teach- 
ings of  this  university.  The  denial  of  the  right  of  private 
judgment  is  bearing  its  legitimate  consequences  in  this  re- 
action. Reason  revenges  itself  for  the  degradation,  which 
tradition  would  fain  impose  upon  her. 

The  interest  begotten  by  these  bearings  of  the  M^ork  is 
heightened  by  the  variety  of  subjects  discussed,  and  the  evi- 
dent unity  of  aim  in  the  midst  of  this  variety.  A  prefatory 
note  informs  us,  that  the  authors  "  have  written  in  entire  in- 
dependence of  each  other,  and  without  concert  or  compari- 
son." But  they  probably  knew  each  other  pretty  well,  and 
were  drawn  together  by  elective  aflinity,  if  not  in  the  iorm 
of  a  pi-emeditated  plan.  The  subjects  here  discussed,  if  fully 
treated,  would  each  require  at  least  a  volume  of  itself.    They 


174  THE   NEW    LATITUDINARIANS    OF    ENGLAND. 

enter  into  the  very  heart  of  the  most  important  theological  and 
philosophical  questions  of  the  age.  Earnest  minds  are  dehat- 
ing  them  in  Germany  and  America,  as  well  as  in  England. 
Opinions  uttered  about  them  by  men  of  standing  and  culture 
are  welcomed,  discussed  and  repeated.  Dr.  Temple  leads  the 
way  with  a  theory  of  the  Education  of  the  World  :  Dr.  Wil- 
liams follows,  rehearsing  with  an  almost  blind  idolatry  the 
speculations  of  Bunsen  about  primeval  and  Jewish  histor}', 
and  applauding  his  vague  theories  of  Christian  doctrine  :  Pro- 
fessor Powell  scouts  all  the  external  evidences  of  Christian- 
ity, and  denies  the  possibility  of  mii-aculous  interventicm  : 
Mr.  Wilson  j^i'ofessedly  discusses  the  project  of  a  National 
Church,  but  really  aims  to  show  that  Christian  history  and 
doctrine  are  so  nncertain  that  the  church  must  be  sacrificed 
to  the  nation  :  Mr.  Goodwin  is  content  with  trying  to  prove 
that  the  Hebrew  Cosmogony  is  irreconcilable  with  modern 
science  :  Dr.  Pattison,  formerly,  it  is  said,  of  Newman's  school, 
reviews  tlie  tendencies  of  Religious  Thougiit  in  England,  in 
the  fii'st  half  of  the  eighteenth  century  :  and  Mr.  Jowett,  in 
altogether  the  best  written  essay  of  the  series,  vindicates 
such  an  interpretation  of  Scripture  as  would  annul  every 
creed  of  Christendom,  not  even  excepting  the  Nicene  for- 
mula. In  this  great  variety  of  subjects,  treated  by  men  of  mark 
and  position,  there  is  a  source  of  attraction,  enhanced  by  the 
common  aim  running  through  all,  least  apparent  in  the  contri- 
butions of  Drs.  Temple  and  Pattison,  That  aim  is  to  show, 
that  the  external  evidences  of  Christianity  are  insufllcient ; 
that  its  sacred  Books  are  not  specifically  inspired  ;  that  the 
histories  contained  in  these  Books  are  to  be  judged  as  we 
would  any  other  histories,  and  in  many  parts  are  incredible ; 
and  that  the  doctrines  of  historic  Christianity  are  to  be  re- 
solved into  more  general  truths,  into  more  philosophic  and 
rational  formulas,  if  they  aj"e  to  retain  their  hold  over  the 
minds  of  this  generation. 

In  the  course  of  every  gi'eat  debate  on  vital  questions, 
there  will  spring  up  a  class  of  men,  men  of  thought  and  cul- 
ture, too,  who  are  in  a  state  of  uneasy  equilibrium  between 


MEN    OF    DOUBTING    MINDS    NOT   MEN    FOR    THE    TIMES.       175 

the  two  parties,  alternately  accepting  some  of  the  general 
(though  none  of  the  extreme)  positions  of  both  parties,  and 
fairly  unable  to  decide  between  the  two.  They  are  not 
adapted  eitlier  to  the  work  of  destruction  or  reconstruction. 
They  are  impotent  to  believe,  or  to  disbelieve.  They  are,  it 
may  be,  connected  with  the  historical  church  by  education, 
and  general  assent,  and  social  position,  and  yet  they  feel  the 
force  of  critical  difficulties  and  philosophic  doubts.  They 
would  not  undermine  Christianity,  and  still  they  cannot  de- 
fend it.  If  the}^  publish  Essays  and  Reviews,  revealing  this 
oscillating  condition,  we  naturally  feel  all  the  interest  in 
them,  that  we  do  in  a  man  hanging  upon  the  edge  of  a  pre- 
cipice. And  of  course  such  essays  must  be  fragmentarj^  and 
not  systematic  :  disintegrating  and  not  constructive  :  throw- 
ing their  influence  on  the  side  of  doubt,  even  wdiile  disavow- 
ing unbelief.  They  will  be  made  up  of  half  errors  and  half 
truths.  The}'  will  state  the  difficulties,  it  may  be  the  argu- 
ments, on  both  sides,  but  as  a  problem  to  be  solved,  for  they 
have  no  solution  to  offer.  They  have  no  consistent  system, 
either  of  unbelief  or  of  belief.  They  abandon  the  old  for- 
tresses, and  have  built  no  new  ones,  but  are  on  the  march  in 
search  of  an  encampment  from  night  to  night.  And  they 
will  very  probably  say,  that  such  essays  and  reviews  "  illus- 
trate the  advantages  derivable  to  the  cause  of  religious  and 
moral  truth,  from  the  free  handling,  in  a  becoming  spirit,  of 
subjects  peculiarly  liable  to  suffer  by  the  repetition  of  con- 
ventional language,  and  from  traditional  modes  of  treatment ;" 
and  they  will  find  sympathizing  friends  to  praise  their  "  frank- 
ness, breadth  and  spiritual  heroism."  But  yet,  after  all,  truth 
is  better  than  free  inquiry  ;  the  goal  is  more  than  the  course  ; 
faith  is  more  solid  than  doubt.  And  when  the  subjects  con- 
cern the  highest  welfare  of  man  here  and  hereafter,  when  the 
issues  ai'e  so  momentous,  and  when  the  strife  is  hottest,  what 
we  want  to  hear  is  the  voice  of  assurance  and  not  the  words 
of  doubt.  Such  men  of  no  system,  neither  bellevei's  nor  un- 
believers, are  not  the  men  for  the  times;  they  deceive  them- 
selves if  they  think  they  are  helping  Christianity  :  and  if  they 


176  THE    NEW    LATITUDmAEIANS    OF    ENGLAND. 

know  they  are  not  lielping  it,  but  helping  to  undermine  it, 
tliey  are  practising  a  real,  even  if  unconscious,  deception  upon 
others.  Let  them  come  out  frankly,  and  say  just  what  they 
believe  or  disbelieve  :  if  they  cannot  do  this,  the}^  are  not  yet 
fit  to  speak  the  needed  word  at  such  times.  They  have  no 
rio-ht  to  sow  the  teeth  of  drao-ons  in  the  o^arden  of  the  Lord, 
and  in  his  name.  And  when  they  tell  us  that  these  subjects 
"  are  peculiarly  liable  to  suffer  from  the  repetition  of  conven- 
tional language,  and  from  traditional  modes  of  treatment," 
did  they  really  suppose,  that  the  *'  conventional  language," 
and  "  traditional  treatment,"  were  all  on  the  side  of  ortho- 
doxy ?  did  they  never  find  anything  of  the  sort,  among  doubt- 
ers and  critics  and  unbelievers  ?  We  will  venture  to  say, 
that,  taking  the  history  of  belief  and  unbelief  down  through 
all  the  centuries,  there  is  more  that  is  "  conventional  "  and 
"  traditional,"  in  the  language  and  objections  of  infidelity, 
than  can  be  found  in  the  Christian  literature — more  stale  re- 
petition of  cant  phrases,  of  uninvestigated  objections,  of 
mere  verbal  difficulties.  This  must  be  so :  for  Christianity 
has  been  always  been  put  on  its  defence  :  and  to  defend, 
there  must  be  some  investigation,  while  to  attack  often  re- 
quires only  a  phrase.  And  this  volume  illustrates  the  point 
very  fully  :  for  all  through  it,  by  almost  every  essayist,  points 
are  assumed  as  proved  which  are  still  in  debate,  stale  objec- 
tions are  urged  without  the  hint  that  they  have  been  replied 
to.  Tlie  whole  Ijook  in  fact  is  a  series  of  assumptions,  on 
almost  every  particular  point  of  criticism  and  difliculty,  that 
the  acts  are  closed,  the  charges  23roved,  the  verdict  rightfully 
pronounced,  and  that  the  culprit  has  nothing  more  to  say  ; 
although  its  authors  must  be  aware,  that  there  is  not  a  diffi- 
culty or  objection  which  they  have  repeated  (there  is  not  a 
new  one  in  the  whole  book),  that  has  not  been  replied  to  in 
some  form,  and  to  which  the  defenders  of  Christianity  are 
not  ready  to  reply.  And  the  chief  peril  of  the  times,  as  they 
must  be  equally  aware,  is  not  on  the  side  of  traditional  and 
unquestioning  belief.  The  age  is  not  at  all  in  danger  of  be- 
lievinir  too  much.     Criticism  is  not  mute  :  reason  is  not  too 


WHAT    THESE   ESSAYS    SERVE    TO    ILLUSTRATE.  177 

humble.  The  men  of  science  are  in  no  particular  danger  of 
being  overwhelmed  by  ecclesiastical  dogmatism.  Inspiration 
and  revelation  are  not  accepted  on  mere  traditional  authority. 
Belief  in  uninvestigated  dogmas  is  not  our  most  imminent 
peril ;  bibliolatry  is  not  the  disease  of  the  age. 

These  Essays  also  serve  to  illustrate  the  state  of  criticism, 
theology,  and  speculation  in  the  most  venerable  and  renowned 
of  the  English  universities.     The  English  nation  is  pledged 
to   Protestant  Christianity,    and    its    universities    have    been 
esteemed    among    its   strongest    bulwarks.      Have    they    so 
cultivated  learning  and  science  as  to  be  ready   for   a  great 
emergency  ?     When    the   contest    between    Christianity   and 
philosophy  which  has  been  going  on  for  fifty  years  in  Ger- 
many as   never   before,    passed    across  the  Channel  (to  pay 
back  the  debt  which  German  rationalism  owed  to  that  Eu(r- 
lish  deism,  from  which  it  received  its  impulse),  would  it  find 
these  sequestered  retreats  of  learning  fully  prepared  to  meet 
the  objections,  and  repel  tlie  foe  ?     If  these  Essays  are  to  be 
taken  as  any  indication   of  the  state  of  theological  learnino-, 
we  think  that  every  unprejudiced  reader  will  echo  the  strong 
language  of  Professor  Ilussey  in  a  recent  sermon  before  the 
nniversity,  who  "  solemnly  warned  his  hearers  that  the  study 
of  theology  was  dying  out."     In  point  of  fact,  the  criticism 
and  theology  of  England  are  outside  of  its  great  schools.     No 
volume   that  we  have  recently  read  illusti-ates  so  fully  the 
danger  of  half  learning :  the  facility  with  wliicii  men  who 
have  not   been  thoroughly  trained  in  the  whole  debaite  and 
conflict,  can  innocently  assume    that  objections  are  irrefra- 
gable, and  ignore  all  replies.    Most  of  the  writers  have  appar- 
ently derived  their  objections  and  their  learning  from  Ger- 
man sources:  and  thus  show  the  danger  of  beginning-  such 
studies,  without  pressing  throngh  them.     Jowett  echoes  to  the 
school  of  Tubingen,  accepting  its  principles,  and  not  avowino- 
its    inferences.     Williatns  repeats    Bnnsen.     But  Baur  and 
Bunsen  both  had  developed  theories,  which  their  disciples  are 
not  quite  ready  to  accept.     They  take  the  premises  and  avoid 
the  conclusion.     They  appropriate  the  doubt,  and  refuse  the 


178  THE    NEW    LATITUDINAllIANS    OF    ENGLAND. 

theory  which  makes  it  consistent.  And,  then,  they  have  got 
just  so  far  into  this  German  criticism  and  philosophy,  as  to 
learn  the  difficulties,  without  studying  the  replies.  Dr.  Pnsey 
quotes  Luther's  saying  about  his  adherents,  "  that  they  were 
like  Solomon's  fleet,  some  of  thein  bringing  back  gold  and 
silver,  but  the  younger  only  peacocks  and  apes."  Thus  fares 
it  with  many  students  of  German  science.  The  men  who  are 
now  leading  the  theological  and  philosophical  investigations 
of  that  country  are  men  who  have  passed  through  profounder 
difficulties,  and  more  thorough  criticism,  than  these  Oxford 
essayists  seem  to  have  yet  suspected  ;  they  have  weighed  the 
difficulties  w^ith  boldness  and  freedom,  and  have  come  out,  in 
spite  of  them,  into  the  clear  light  of  revealed  truth.  But  all 
this  class  of  men,  the  best  and  brightest  lights  of  Germany, 
are  not  known  or  studied  by  the  Oxford  reviewers.  That 
Delitzsch,  Keil,  Kurtz,  Ilavernick,  Bertheau,  and  Hengsten- 
berg  have  gone  over  all  their  Old  Testament  difficulties ; 
that  Olshausen,  Ebrard,  Tholuck,  Lange,  Stier,  and  even  De 
Wette,  Meyer,  and  Liicke,  have  replied  to  many  of  their  New 
Testament  criticisms,  they  do  not  seem  to  have  suspected. 
They  can  give  up  even  the  Gospel  of  John,  though  such 
"  ti'aditionalists  "  as  Hase,  De  Wette,  Meyer,  and  Ewald  cling 
to  it.  They  follow  Strauss  in  excluding  all  prophecies  from 
the  sphere  of  credibility :  though  he  allows,  as  they  will  not, 
that  the  Scriptures  profess  to  contain  them.  They  reduce  the 
Christian  doctrines  to  the  minimum  of  accordance  with 
reason,  though  such  men  as  Neander,  Nitzsch,  Julius  Miiller, 
Dorner,  and  Kotlie,  and  even  Schleiermacher  allow  their 
reason  to  be  instructed  by  revelation.  They  have  not  got  far 
enough  into  German  theology  and  philosophy  to  have  any 
knowledge  of  those  positive  constructions  of  the  Christian 
system,  which  are  meant  to  reconcile  faith  and  philosophy : 
they  have  just  got  far  enough  to  feel  the  doubt  and  difficulty  ; 
but  they  have  not  enough  necessity  of  believing,  or  necessity 
of  systematizing,  to  carry  them  to  a  positive  position.  Not 
one  of  them  has  any  definite  theory  of  Christianity  as  a  com- 
plete and  final  sjstera.     Jowett  comes  the  nearest  to  it  in 


ONLY    OBJECTING    AND   NEVEE    AFFIRMING.  179 

some  vague  intimations  about  the  incarnation.  Dr.  Temple 
may  have  more  positive  views,  but  they  are  not  stated,  Wil- 
liams is  all  afloat  with  Bunsen.  Powell  talks  about  a  sphere 
of  belief,  but  is  positive  only  on  the  subject  of  natural  laws. 
Past  theories  are  to  them  obsolete,  and  the  future  is  conjec- 
tural. In  Christian  antiquity  they  find  no  guide  ;  in  the 
histoiy  of  English  theology  no  certainty  ;  from  Germany  they 
import  only  criticism  ;  the  Scriptures  give  no  resting  place  ; 
and  their  own  reason  has  not  as  yet  found  any  solution  of 
the  difficulties  or  answer  to  the  problems.  They  give  up 
Scripture  history,  prophecy  and  miracles :  they  abandon  the 
canon  :  they  are  to  verify  Scripture  by  criticism  and  reason  : 
and  what  reason  gives  as  ultimate,  they  do  not  tell  us.  Is 
such  a  work  as  this  the  best  that  English  university  culture 
can  o>ive  in  the  m'eat  conflict  of  the  ao:e  ?  Are  such  men  the 
worthy  successors  of  Cudworth,  Bull,  Waterland,  Butler,  and 
Hoi'sley  ?  Have  they  even  as  consistent  a  position,  are  they 
as  worthy  of  being  the  teachers  of  the  land,  as  Samuel  Clarke, 
Lardner,  and  Paley  ?  for  these  last  did  not  abandon  the  out- 
posts. But  these  new  comers  ask  us  to  give  up  all  the  old 
defences,  and  they  do  not  give  us  any  other.  We  are  willing 
to  hear  an  open  adversary,  with  a  system  which  sweeps  the 
field  :  we  want  to  hear  those  Christian  advocates  of  the  faith, 
who  know  what  they  believe,  and  what  they  can  affirm  and 
defend.  But  we  cannot  learn  much  from  those  who  only 
object  and  never  affirm,  who  criticise  on  principles  that  un- 
dermine the  whole  fabric  of  Christianity  and  yet  are  not 
keen  enough  to  see,  or  bold  enough  to  avow,  those  principles  ;; 
whose  faces  are  turned  to  the  Church,  and  whose  arms  are 
vigorously  rowing  their  boats  in  the  opposite  direction.  If 
they  adopt  the  criticisms  of  Tiibingen,  let  them  avow  its 
principles  :  for  the  criticism  is  worthless  and  nugatory,  except 
as  connected  with  the  system.  If  they  use  the  art,  and  do  not 
know  the  science,  they  are  yet  learners  and  not  fit  to  be 
teachers.  Their  criticisms  are  valid,  if  there  is  no  miracle, 
no  inspiration,  no  specific  revelation.  Their  criticisms  are 
invalid,  if  there  be  inspiration,  revelation,  and  redeinption, 


180  THE   NEW    LATITUDINAEIANS    OF    ENGLAND, 

And  there  can  be  no  compromise  here.  It  is  either  fact  or 
myth.  And  the  Christian  Church  has  a  right  to  know, 
which  of  the  two,  its  teachers  hold  the  Bible  and  Christianity 
to  be. 

""*  Do  we,  then,  object  to  the  posture  of  inquiry,  criticism, 
and  debate  ?  By  no  manner  of  means.  We  are  willing  to 
grant,  and  even  to  welcome  it ;  it  has  its  appropriate  sphere. 
There  are  difficulties  about  Scripture  history,  chronology,  and 
the  apj)lication  of  its  words  to  doctrinal  statements  subse- 
quently framed,  which  require  study  and  examination,  and 
yet  await  a  final  decision.  Some  of  them  it  may  not  be  pos- 
sible to  decide  at  all ;  we  ma}^  lack  the  necessary  materials  or 
links  in  contemporaneous  history.  There  are  difficulties  about 
the  authorship  of  certain  books,  which  may  leave  that  question 
in  suspense.  Any  and  all  fair  and  candid  statements  of  such 
doubts  and  difficulties,  and  any  help  towards  a  solution,  we 
cordially  greet.  But  what  we  do  object  to  is,  that  professed 
Christian  teachers  should  assume  that  these  contradictions 
are  all  proved,  and  that  the  defenders  of  the  Bible  have 
nothing  reasonable  to  reply ;  and  that  they  should  do  this 
without  even  noticing  or  refuting  replies  already  given. 
What  we  object  to  still  more  definitely  is,  that  they  should 
conduct  their  whole  criticism  on  underlying  principles  which 
they  do  not  "care  or  dare  to  avow,  or  cloak  those  principles  in 
ambiguous  phrases  that  mislead  the  unwary  and  enchant  the 
initiated;  for  they  are  either  ignorant  or  conscious  of  the 
bearing  of  these  i>rinciples.  If  ignorant,  they  have  no  right 
to  speak  Mnth  authority;  if  conscious,  they  speak  only  to 
delude.  There  are,  in  short,  several  previous  questions  which 
they  ought  to  have  settled  for  themselves,  before  writing  such 
a  book  for  the  public :  the  questions  as  to  the  possibility  and 
reality  of  inspiration,  miracles,  prophecy,  incarnation,  and 
redemption.  If  these  questions  are  settled  in  the  affirmative, 
much  of  the  special  criticism  of  the  Essays  would  fall  at  once 
to  the  ground.  If  they  have  answered  these  questions  to 
themselves  in  the  negative,  then,  as  honest  men,  they  ought 
to  have  told  us  so.     If  they  are  undecided,  they  ought  not  to 


DR.  TEMPLE  ON  THE  EDUCATION  OF  THE  WORLD.     181 

conduct  tlieir  sjiecial  criticisms  as  if  all  these  points  had  been 
decided  in  the  negative.  ^i' 

An  examination  of  the  individual  Essays,  so  far  as  onr  space 
allows,  will  confirm  these  general  statements  about  their 
method  and  principles.  We  cannot  of  course  enter  into 
detailed  criticism.  Many  of  the  assertions  so  ]-ecklessly  made 
in  a  single  sentence,  would  require  a  dissertation  either  to 
prove  or  to  disprove  them.  But  the  substance  of  each  disser-^ 
tation  may  be  so  far  given,  as  to  vindicate  our  general  judg-j 
ment  about  the  men  and  the  book. 

The  Head  Master  of  Rugby  opens  the  volume  with  the  most 
comprehensive  subject  embraced  in  it,  viz. :  The  Education 
of  the  World.  Progress  is  the  law  of  the  spiritual  creation. 
Man  is  only  man  by  virtue  of  being  a  member  of  the  race. 
The  race,  like  the  individual,  has  its  childhood,  youth,  and 
[nanhood.  "First  come  Rules,  then  Examples,  then  Principles. 
First  comes  the  Law,  then  the  Son  of  Man,  then  the  Gift  of 
the  Spirit "  (p.  6).  The  result  of  the  Jewish  education  (the 
Law)  was  monotheism  and  chastity.  When  the  Son  of  Man 
came,  he  found  the  world  prepared  by  four  races,  each  of 
which  had  a  distinct  character.  "  The  Hebrews  had  disci- 
plined the  human  conscience,  Rome  the  human  will,  Greece 
the  reason  and  taste,  Asia  the  spiritual  imagination  "  (p.  22). 
Christ,  as  the  great  example  (aided  by  Greece,  Rome,  and  the 
early  church),  then  taught  and  moulded  all  these  into  one 
church.  The  power  of  this  exam^^le  declining,  the  "  freshness 
of  faith  "  being  lost,  "  we  possess  in  the  greater  cultivation  of 
our  religious  understanding,  that  which,  perhaps,  we  ought 
not  to  be  willing  to  give  in  exchange  "  (p.  28).  We  come 
under  a  law  "  which  is  not  imjiosed  upon  us  by  another 
power,  but  by  our  own  enlightened  will."  We  outgrow  past 
creeds,  and  learn  "  to  have  no  opinion  at  all  on  many  points 
of  the  deepest  interest."  "  The  principle  of  private  judgment 
puts  conscience  between  us  and  the  Bible,  making  conscience 
the  supreme  interpi-eter  where  it  may  be  a  duty  to  enlighten, 
but  where  it  can  never  be  a  duty  to  disobey  "  (p.  51).  Even 
the  doctrinal  parts  of  the  Bible  "  are  best  studied  by  consider- 


182 


THE   NEW    LATITUDINAKIANS    OF    ENGLAND, 


ing  them  as  records  of  the  time  at  which  they  were  written, 
and  as  conveying  to  ns  the  highest  and  greatest  rehgious  life 
of  that  time."  In  "  the  maturity  of  man's  powers,  the  great 
lever  which  moves  the  world  is  knowledge,  the  great  force  is 
the  intellect"  (p.  55).  But,  at  tlie  same  time,  Dr.  Temple 
concedes  and  implies,  that  a  supernatural  revelation  in  Christ 
is  the  great  moving  power  and  principle  even  in  this  ulterior 
education.  lie  is  more  definite  on  this  point  than  almost  any 
other  of  the  essayists.  His  theory  has,  we  think  unjustly,  been 
identified  with  that  of  Comte  ;  but  he  nowhere  asserts  that 
positive  science  is  the  only  or  final  means  of  culture,  to  super- 
sede all  others.  He  represents  the  race,  indeed,  as  a  "  colossal 
man,  whose  life  reaches  from  the  creation  to  the  day  of  judg- 
ment ;  "*  but  the  culture  of  this  man  is  to  be  by  and  through 
a  revelation,  given  once  for  all,  and  in  one  passage  said  to  be 
"  infallibly  "  given. 

The  diflSculty  about  his  theory  (if  it  can  be  so  called),  is 
found  in  the  fact  that  many  of  its  most  important  points  are 
so  vaguely  stated,  that  they  might  easily  l)e  pressed  into  the 

*  The  Westminster  Hevieio  says  that  this  "colossal  man  "  theory  is  adopted 
from  Auguste  Comte,  "  without  acknow'ledgment  and  perhaps  unconscious- 
ly;" and  that  "it  is  a  flagrant  instance  of  the  habit  now  prevalent 
amongst  Churchmen  (though  rare  in  this  book)  of  snatching  up  the  language 
or  the  idea  of  really  free-thinking  men,  and  using  them  for  their  pui-posea 
in  a  way  which  is  utterly  thoughtless  or  shamefully  dishonest."  But  the 
accusation  should  rather  come  from  the  other  side,  for  this  idea  of  the  colos 
sal  man  was  suggested  by  Pascal,  and  borrowed  "  perhaps  unconsciously' 
by  Comte.  In  his  Pensees  (Partie  1.  Art.  1,  suppressed  in  the  first  editions, 
De  TAutorite  en  Matiere  de  Philosophie),  Pascal  writes:  "  De  la  vient  que, 
par  une  prerogative  particuliere,  nonseulement  chacun  deshommes  s'avance 
de  jour  en  jour  dans  les  sciences,  mais  que  tous  les  hommes  ensemble  y  font 
un  continuel  progres  a  mesure  que  I'univers  vieillit.  parce  que  la  meme  chose 
arrive  dans  la  succession  des  hommes,  que  dans  les  ages  differents  dhm  parti- 
cuUer.  De  sorte  que  toute  la  suite  des  Jiommes,  pendant  le  cours  de  tant  de 
siecles,  doit  etre  consideree  comme  un  meme  homme  qui  subsiste  tovjours,  et  qui 
apprend  continuellement ;  d'ou  Ton  voit  avec  combien  de  I'injustice  nou  s 
respectons  I'antiquite  dans  ces  philosophes ;  car,  comme  la-vieillesse  est  ITige 
le  plus  distant  de  I'enfance,  qui  ne  voit  que  la  vieillesse  de  cet  homme  uni- 
versel  ne  doit  pas  etre  cherchee  dans  les  temps  prochesde  sa  naissance,  maia 
dans  ceux  qui  en  sont  les  plus  eloignes  ?  " 


DR.    TEAITLe's    TIIKOUY   NEBULOUS.  183 

service  of  a  rationalistic  construction  of  history.  He  seems  to 
have  no  thorough  knowledge  of  the  subject  he  discusses,  or  of 
the  bearings  of  some  of  his  statements.  What  he  attempts  to 
present,  is  a  general  plan  or  scheme  of  human  history,  fi-om 
the  beginning  to  the  consummation  of  all  things  ;  in  other 
words,  a  philosophy  of  history.  Some  of  the  best  minds  of 
the  age,  philosophers  and  historians,  have  been  and  are  at 
work  on  this  vast  problem.  Every  new  system  of  philosophy 
brings  this  within  its  scope,  as  one  of  its  tests.  The  chief 
works  on  the  subject  Dr.  Temple  does  not  seem  to  have  con- 
sulted. Even  Bossuet's  and  Schlegel's  schemes  are  superior 
to  his.  Herder's  is  much  more  genial  and  complete.  Hegel's 
(translated  into  English)  is  more  comprehensive.  Comte's  is 
more  thorough  in  its  grasp  of  the  real  problem.  That  any  one 
should  suppose  that,  under  the  figure  of  the  education  of  a 
single  man,  and  under  the  three  categories  of  law,  example, 
and  principles,  the  whole  course  of  history  could  be  comprised 
and  mastered,  shows  that  fancy  has  the  mastery  of  judgment ; 
that  symbols  are  substituted  for  ideas ;  and  that  in  the  form  of 
history  its  soul  and  its  substance  are  lost  sight  of.  The  idea  is 
evidently  taken  from  the  best  mode  of  training  boys  at  Rugljy 
rather  than  derived  from  the  open  vision  of  history  itself. 
Whole  nations  and  empires,  Egypt,  India,  Turkey,  are  en- 
tii-ely  omitted  from,  and  cannot  be  brought  under,  his  scheme. 
Nor  is  the  notion  of  education  itself,  on  which  all  here  de- 
pends, analyzed  or  defined.  Education  in  what  ?  Education 
to  and  for  what  ?  These  are  certainly  radical,  as  they  ai-e 
unnoticed  inquiries.  The  legal  period  is  described  as  one  of 
restraint;  but  law  has  an  end  or  object,  and  is  not  merely  a 
disciplinarian.  Example  doubtless  instructs ;  but,  what  does 
it  and  ought  it  to  instruct  us  about  ?  The  highest  stage  is  that 
of  principles ;  but  what  are  these  principles  ?  Conscience  is 
to  be  supreme,  and  reason  is  to  guide ;  but  what  are  the 
dictates  of  this  supreme  conscience  ?  AVhat  are  the  ideas  and 
laws  of  this  guiding  reason?  None  of  these  questions  are 
touched  upon ;  and  hence  the  whole  theory  is  nebulous.  The 
shadow  is  perpetually  mistaken  for  the  substance.     A  law  of 


184  THE    NEW    LATITUDINAKIANS    OF    ENGLAND. 

external  growth  is  stated  in  figurative  guise;  but  what  it  is 
that  is  growing,  and  what  it  is  to  grow  to,  we  are  not  told, 
excepting  in  those  general  phrases  which  a  naturalist  might 
ntter  as  sonorous!}'  as  a  Christian,  for  each  can  put  his  own 
contents  into  them.  What  confusion  of  thought,  for  example, 
in  the  statement  (p.  32),  "  that  the  New  Testament  is  almost 
entirely  occupied  with  two  lives — the  life  of  our  Lord,  and 
the  life  of  the  early  church  ; "  as  if  one  should  say,  that 
Xenophon's  writings  were  occupied  with  two  lives — the  life  of 
Socrates  and  the  life  of  the  Greek  nation.  Who  can  get  any 
adequate  idea  of  what  was  going  on  in  the  middle  ages,  from 
being  told  (p.  49),  that  the  church  "  was  occupied  in  renewing, 
by  self-discipline,  the  self-control  which  tlie  sudden  absorption 
of  the  barbarians  liad  destroyed "  ?  Have  we  touched  the 
essence  of  the  Reformation  in  the  position,  that  it  tauglit  "tlie 
lesson  of  toleration  ?  "  It  doubtless  did  that  in  part,  but  that 
was  a  very  small  part  of  its  work.  And  when  we  are  assured 
that,  in  these  last  days,  "  the  great  lever  which  moves  the 
world  is  knowledge,  the  great  force  is  intellect,"  this,  if  taken 
strictly,  is  the  common  talk  of  the  commonest  unbelief ;  or,  if 
it  is  not  to  be  taken  strictly,  the  writer  did  not  appreciate  the 
force  and  bearing  of  his  own  words.  This  would  be  a  ]30or 
lesson  even  for  the  pupils  at  Rugby.  What  a  contrast  between 
Dr.  Arnold,  with  his  high  moral  and  Christian  enthusiasm 
and  vigorous  statement  of  substantial  truth,  and  Dr.  Temple, 
with  his  indeiinite  and  immature  speculations  upon  the  most 
important  themes!  The  one  knew  so  much  of  history,  that 
he  hardly  ventured  to  speculate  upon  it ;  the  other  gives  us  airy 
phrases  instead  of  either  facts  or  ideas.  By  his  very  indeti- 
ni  ten  ess  he  prepares  the  way  for  the  definite  doubt  which 
follows  in  the  next  essay. 

Tliis  second  treatise  is  by  Dr.  Rowland  Williams,  who  be- 
lieves in  Bunsen  and  does  not  believe  in  the  Bible  ;  or  rather, 
he  believes  in  Bunsen's  Bible,  excepting  that  he  is  obliged  to 
"smile""  now  and  then  at  some  superstition  about  Jonah's 
personality,  and  tlie  possibility  of  particular  prophecies,  to 
which  the  Baron  still  clings.     To  those  who  know  anything 


DE.    WILLIAMS    ON    BUNSEN.  185 

of  the  estimate  in  which  Bunseii  is  held  at  home  in  criticism 
and  philosophy,  this  obsequious  vejieratioii  of  Dr.  Williams 
for  the  Chevalier  is  reall}'  amusing,  especially  when  coupled 
with  his  undisguised  contempt  for  anything  that  has  any 
odor  of  orthodoxy.  Bunsen,  it  seems,  is  "  the  man  who,  in 
our  darkest  perplexitj^,  has  reared  again  the  banner  of  truth, 
and  uttered  thoughts  which  give  courage  to  the  weak  and 
sight  to  the  blind."  This  may  describe  Bunsen's  effect  upon 
himself ;  but  it  is  the  only  testimony  of  the  kind  we  happen 
to  have  met  with.  "  Our  little  survey,"  he  adds,  "  has  not 
traversed  his  vast  field,  nor  our  plummet  sounded  his  depth  ;  " 
and  then,  fairly  unable  to  restrain  the  sacred  fire,  he  breaks 
out  in  metre : 

"  Bunsen,  with  voice  like  sound  of  trumpet  born, 
Conscious  of  strength,  and  confidently  bold  ! 
Well  feign  the  sons  of  Loyola  the  scorn 

Which  from  thy  books  would  scare  their  startled  fold. 
To  thee  our  earth  disclosed  her  purple  morn,"  etc. 

"  But  ah  !  not  dead,  my  soul  to  giant  reach,"  etc. 

Of  Bunsen,  in  many  relations,  no  right-minded  man  can 
speak  in  other  terms  than  those  of  admiration  and  unfeigned 
respect.  He  was  full  of  noble  impulses  ;  he  liad  the  highest 
love  for  freedom  of  speech  and  of  conscience,  which  he  brave- 
ly defended  ;  he  opposed,  even  at  the  loss  of  high  station,  the 
reactionary  policy  of  the  Prussian  court.  His  learning  was 
varied  and  ample,  and  no  one  can  read  him  without  being- 
stimulated  to  thought  and  investigation  ;  and  he  has  but  just 
left  the  world,  with  the  cheering  words  of  simple  faith  upon 
his  dying  lips.  The  vague  speculations  in  which  he  so  much 
delighted,  were  exchanged  in  the  decisive  hour,  for  the  hal- 
lowed Christian  forms  of  speech  which  his  philosophy  was 
always  tempting  him  to  abandon.  He  was  deficient  in  just 
those  very  qualities  for  which  Dr.  AYilliams  lauds  him.  He 
was  not  a  judge,  but  an  advocate.  He  worked  in  the  mine, 
and  not  in  the  mint.  He  collected  (not  without  the  assiduity 
of  others)  a  vast  mass  of  materials,  which  he  could  not  recon- 
struct into  order.    On  the  most  slender  basis  of  facts,  he  would 


186  THE    NEW    LATITUDINAEIANS    OF    ENGLAND. 

sometimes  rear  the  most  extravagant  of  hypotheses.  A  single 
piece  of  pottery  in  the  mud  of  the  Nile,  induced  him  to  elon- 
gate by  ten  thousand  years  the  life  of  the  race.  His  recon- 
structions of  history  were  made  by  imagination,  and  not  by 
induction.  His  philosophy  of  history  lacked  thoroughness  and 
precision.  And  in  respect  to  Christian  doctrine,  he  was  per- 
petually hovering  between  the  words  of  the  creeds  and  the 
formulas  of  Hegel.  His  attempt  (in  his  Philosophy  of  His- 
tory) to  resolve  what  he  calls  Semitic  speech  into  the  language 
of  Japhet  (that  is,  orthodox  formulas  into  Hegelian  abstrac- 
tions), is  one  of  the  most  curious  illustrations  of  the  process  by 
which  concrete  realities  can  be  sublimated  into  barren  abstrac- 
tions. And  in  all  these  things,  his  English  disciple  echoes  the 
great  master,  as  if  he  were  under  the  spell  of  an  enchanter's 
wand. 

His  essay  is  simply  a  resume  of  the  results  of  the  idealizing 
school  of  modern  criticism,  as  to  the  history  and  doctrines, 
the  inspii'ation  and  authority  of  the  Scriptures.  No  proof  is 
attempted.  Ho  seems  to  think  the  whole  matter  is  decided. 
AVliere  he  is  not  willing  to  make  direct  assertions,  he  throws 
out  wanton  insinuations.*  The  tone  of  self-conscious  superi- 
ority affected  in  this  Essay  is  not  supported  by  anything  con- 
tained in  it.  We  need  only  refer  to  a  few  points  under  the 
heads  of  history,  prophecy,  and  doctrine,  to  show  the  conclu- 
sions to  which  the  rationalistic  tendency  must  lead.  The 
introductory  statements  are  devoted  to  generalizing  the  ideas 
of  revelation,  inspiration,  miracle,  and  prophecy,  so  as  to  rob 
them  of  their  specific  import.     A  faith,  to  whose  miraculous 

*  Dr.  Williams  has  since  written  an  "  Earnestly  Respectful  Letter  to  the 
Lord  Bishop  of  St.  David's,  on  the  Difficulty  of  bringing  Theological  Ques- 
tions to  an  Issue ;  "  to  which  Dr.  Thirlwall  replied  in  a  calm  and  convincing 
manner,  and  drew  out  a  "  Critical  Appendix,"  which,  by  as  cautious  and 
candid  a  review  as  the  Journal  of  Sacred  Literature,  is  characterized  as 
"  one  long-drawn  quibble  ;  "  adding,  that  "  no  one  of  his  opinions  is  man- 
fully stated,  expounded,  justified  or  repudiated."  Though  he  takes  shelter. 
as  a  reporter,  under  Bunsen,  yet  the  whole  tone  of  the  Essay,  unles.s  it  is, 
what  the  Westminster  Review  terms  "  a  mere  mystification,"  allows  no 
doubt  about  his  adopting  its  main  positions. 


DK.    WILLIAMS'    AKITHMETIC.  187 

tests  reason  and  conscience  "  must  bow,"  is  declared  to  be 
"  allied  to  priestcraft  and  formalism,  and  not  rarely  with  cor- 
ruptness of  administration  or  of  life."  By  arbitrary  hypo- 
theses as  to  the  time  necessary  for  a  supposed  development, 
he  carries  back  the  race  at  least  twenty  thousand  years.  But 
when  we  look  for  the  facts  to  warrant  this  extension,  what 
we  find  is  an  inquiry  as  to  how  long  it  took  French  to  grow 
out  of  Latin,  and  Latin  out  of  its  original  crude  forms.  If  it 
took  two  thousand  years  for  this,  how  long  must  it  have  taken 
to  form  the  Hebrew  from  its  primitive  gei-ms  ?  The  arith- 
metic is  certainly  not  very  exact.  The  Pentateuch  is  of  course 
declared  to  be  a  gradual  growth  "  from  a  Bible  before  our 
Bible ; "  it  came  to  its  present  form  about  one  thousand  or 
seven  hundred  before  Christ.  That  previous  documents  may 
have  been  used  in  its  composition  might  be  conceded,  without 
denying  its  Mosaic  authoi-ship ;  bnt  Dr.  Williams  reasons 
upon  it,  as  if  Kurtz,  and  Hengstenberg,  and  Keil  had  never 
written  on  the  question,  or  noticed  all  the  arguments  by  which 
its  genuineness  has  been  assailed.*  lie  abandons  the  prophe- 
cies of  Daniel,  transforming  them  into  mere  history  or  conjec- 
ture, without  condescending  to  refer  to  the  replies  of  Auber- 
len  and  Havernick.  In  fact,  he  gives  up  all  prophecy,  except- 
ing "  perhaps  one  passage  in  Zechariah,  one  in  Isaiah  and 
one  in  Deuteronomy  on  the  fall  of  Jerusalem  ;  "  though  even 

*  Some  of  his  incidental  explanations  are  exegetical  curiosities.  The 
"avenger  of  the  first-bom"  becomes  "  a  Bedouin  host."  The  passage  of 
the  Red  Sea  is  "poetry."  Some  criticisms  show  lack  of  thorough  study. 
He  makes  sagcuis  (officers)  in  Is.  xii. ,  25,  to  be  a  Persian  word,  though  Fiirst 
denies  it.  He  argues  against  the  genuineness  of  the  last  part  of  Zechariah, 
though  De  Wette  himself  recanted  his  doubts,  and  Havernick  has  replied 
minutely  to  all  the  objections.  He  translates  Psalm  ii.,  13,  "Worship  purely," 
instead  of  "Kiss  the  Son,"  though  this  rendering  is  rejected  by  the  most 
eminent  scholars,  Gesenius,  De  Wette,  Ewald.  Compare  Brit.  Quarterly, 
Jan.,  1861,  which  also  refers  to  his  proposed  translation  "mighty  God" 
(Is.  ix.,  6),  as  "  strong  or  mighty  one," — asking  how  it  comes  to  pass,  that  el 
here  alone  in  all  Hebrew  books  should  "  be  translated  o?ie."  Equally  cu- 
rious is  his  emendation  of  Psalm  xxii.,  17,  viz.,  "like  a  lion,"  instead  of 
"  they  pierced," — purely  conjectural,  and  "  in  the  face  of  aU  MSS.  and  an- 
cient citations."     Ibid.,  p.  25. 


188  THE   NEW    LATITUDINAKIANS    OF    ENGLAND. 

these  "  tew  cases  tend  to  melt,  if  tliej  are  not  already  melted, 
in  the  crucible  of  free  inquiry,"  and  what  is  left  is  certain 
"  deep  truths  "  and  "  great  ideas.''  Even  the  Messianic  inter- 
pretation of  the  53d  of  Isaiah  is  rejected  (p.  80),  although  for 
seventeen  centuries  only  two  interpreters  (excepting  Jews), 
and  both  of  these  professed  unbelievers,  gave  it  such  a  non- 
Messianic  sense.  Bunsen  makes  it  refer  to  Jeremiah,  and 
Williams  to  Baruch,  or  rather  to  the  "  collective  Israel.'"  This 
last  interpretation,  as  Hengstenberg  has  unanswerably  shown, 
is  most  violent,  has  no  analogy  in  the  Old  Testament,  and  de- 
mands the  most  unnatural  personifications  ;  as  when  it  is  said, 
"  he  made  his  grave  with  the  wicked  and  with  the  rich  in  his 
death."  Even  a  kind  of  spiritual  clairvoyance  as  to  particular 
future  events,  to  which  Bunsen  adheres,  is  rejected  by  his  dis- 
ciple. Consistently  with  these  views  (if  not  their  source),  he 
denies  any  specific  inspiration,  making  it  to  be  "  the  voice  of 
the  congregation."  "  Our  Prayer  Book  is  constructed  on  the 
idea  that  the  church  is  an  inspired  society."  "  If  any  one  pre- 
fers thinking  the  sacred  writers  passionless  machines,  and 
calling  Luther  and  Milton  '  uninspired,'  let  him  co-operate  in 
researches  by  which  this  theory,  if  true,  will  be  triumj^hantly 
confirmed  "  (p.  87).  But  surely  he  must  know,  that  orthodox 
theologians  do  not  look  upon  inspired  men  as  "  machines," 
or  refuse  to  recognize  the  human  element  in  the  Divine 
word.  Is  there  no  possible  medium  between  the  mechani- 
cal theory  of  inspiration,  and  the  rejection  of  all  specific 
inspiration  ? 

It  is  this  theory  of  general,  in  distinction  from  specific  in- 
spiration, which  is  at  the  basis  of  Dr.  Williams'  method  of  in- 
terpreting prophecy :  for  if  there  be  real  prophecies  in  the 
Scriptures  there  must  be  a  divine  inspiration  :  if  there  be  no 
inspiration,  there  cannot  be  any  prophecy.  The  whole  runs 
back,  of  course,  into  the  underlying  theory,  that  tliere  cannot 
be  any  direct  supernatural  interference,  to  control  the  natu- 
ralistic order  of  development.  It  is  only  on  the  assumption 
of  this  development  hypothesis,  only  on  the  exclusion  of  su- 
pernaturalism  from  history,  that  these  interpretations  become 


DR.    WILLIAMS     WAY    OF    PKOCEDURE.  189 

plausible.  Strauss  and  his  followers  lay  it  down  as  a  canon 
of  interpretation,  that  there  cannot  be  either  miracle  or  proph- 
ecy, and  interpret  accordinf^lj^ ;  although  they  grant,  that 
the  books  themselves  claim  to  contain  both  miracle  and  proph- 
ecy. This  is  a  much  easier,  and  a  more  honest  course,  than 
to  try  to  make  out,  that  the  books  themselves  do  not' claim  to 
have  supernatural  contents.  There  are  three  ways  of  pro- 
cedure here  :  one  is,  to  say  that  the  narrative  contains  projjh- 
ecies,  and  is  true ;  another,  that  it  claims  to  contain  prophe- 
cies, but,  as  there  cannot  be  any  prophecy,  that  this  claim  is 
false ;  another  is,  that  it  does  not  claim  to  contain  prophecy. 
Rationalism,  so  far  as  it  still  pa3'S  a  lingering  deference  to  the 
Scripture,  while  denying  the  reality  of  prophecy,  tries  to  make 
out  the  latter  point.  But  hei*e  it  is  opposed,  by  the  plain  in- 
tent of  the  Old  Testament ;  by  the  counter  testimony  of  Christ 
and  the  apostles  in  the  New  :  by  the  almost  unanimous  verdict 
of  Christian  interpreters  ;  and  also,  by  the  concessions  of  un- 
believing interpreters,  who  say,  that  the  Scriptural  writers 
undoubtedly  claim  prophetic  inspiration,  but  that  the  claim  is 
absurd.  If  Dr.  Williams  should  take  this  latter  ground,  of 
course  his  task  would  be  easier ;  for  now  he  is  obliged  to  re- 
concile a  belief  in  Scripture,  with  an  unwillingness  to  believe 
in  prophecy ;  and  the  only  way  in  which  this  can  be  effected 
is,  by  trying  to  show  that  after  all,  there  are  no  proper  predic- 
tions in  the  Bible.  And  though  there  are  "  some  doubtful 
passages  "  remaining,  j^et  he  thinks  that  these  will  "  melt 
away,"  and  leave  only  "  great  ideas."  He  cannot  consent  to 
give  up  the  Bible  w^holly ;  and  yet  he  intei*j3rets  it  on  princi- 
ples which  midermine  its  authority,  and  make  it  to  be  the 
most  enigmatic,  if  not  contradictory,  of  books.  In  contrast 
with  such  a  specimen  of  half -learning,  and  of  vacillating  views, 
it  is  refreshing  to  turn  to  the  most  recent  work  of  one  of  the 
best  and  al)lest  of  German  scholars,  who  is  above  all  sus- 
picion of  being  a  bigoted  adherent  of  the  letter  of  Scripture 
and  of  tradition,  and  whose  learning  and  exegetical  skill  far 
surpass  Bunsen's,  to  say  nothing  of  Dr.  "Williams.  Profes- 
sor Tholuck  in  his  work  on  The  Prophets  and  their  Prophe 


190  THE    NEW    LATITUDINARIANS    OF    ENGLAND. 

cies,*  reviews  the  whole  subject  in  a  philosophical  manner, 
yet  nnfettered  by  naturalistic  hypotheses.  And  the  result  of 
his  studies  is,  that  these  prophecies  cannot  be  interpreted  "  as 
the  utterance  of  subjective  religious  aspirations  ;  and  that  the 
very  course  of  history  has  impressed  upon  these  declarations 
the  stamp,  and  confirmation,  of  an  objective  and  supernatural 
inspiration."  On  the  score  of  mere  testimony,  such  a  declara- 
tion outweighs  any  authority  that  can  possibly  be  ascribed  to 
the  opinions  of  either  Bunsen  or  his  Anglican  disciple.  Ber- 
theau  has  recently  published  a  series  of  essays  (in  the  Jahr- 
blicher  fiir  deutsche  Theologie,  1859,  18G0),  which  evince  a 
thorough  study  of  the  subject.  Professor  Fairbairn's  work, 
issued  in  Edinburgh,  1856,  on  Prophecy,  its  Nature  and 
Functions,  ably  refutes  many  of  the  positions  so  confidently 
advanced  in  these  Essays,  as  the  final  verdict  of  criticism. 

But  it  is  in  the  sphere  of  doctrines,  that  Dr.  Williams  utters 
the  most  extravagant  opinions,  fully  illustrating  that  anti- 
Christian  tendency,  which  we  described  at  the  beginning  of 
this  article — resolving  the  realities  of  faith  into  mystical  and 
unmeaning  generalities.  He  speaks  (p.  89)  of  "  that  religious 
idea,  which  is  the  thought  of  the  Eternal,  without  conformity 
to  which  our  souls  cannot  be  saved."  Justification  by  faith 
is  "  peace  of  mind,  or  that  sense  of  divine  approval,  which 
comes  of  trust  in  a  righteous  God,  rather  than  a  fiction  of 
merit  by  transfer;"  it  is  "  a  verdict  of  forgiveness  upon  our 
repentance."  Regeneration  is  "  an  awakening  of  forces  of 
the  souL""  Resurrection  is  "spiritual  quickening."  Gehen- 
na is  "  an  im.age  of  distracted  remorse."  "  Heaven  is  not  a 
place  so  much  as  fulfilment  of  the  love  of  God."  "  The  in- 
carnation is  purely  spiritual."     The  fall  of  Adam  "repre- 

*  Die  Propheten  und  ihre  Weissagungen.  Eine  apblogetisch-hemieneu- 
tische  Studie  von  A.  TiiOLUCK.  Gotha,  1860.  Delitzsch  in  his  Prophet- 
ische  Theologie  stands  on  the  same  general  ground.  Hengstenberg's  exam- 
ination of  all  these  prophetic  passages  is  so  thorough,  that  even  the 
rationalists  of  Germany  confess  that  refutation  of  him  is  essential  for  the 
vindication  of  their  interpretations.  To  ignore  these  replies  after  the  man- 
ner of  Dr.  Williams,  would  make  them  at  once  lose  caste  in  the  republic 
of  letters. 


WHAT  COMES  OF  "  IDEOLOGY  "  APPLIED  TO  DOCTKINES.       191 

seiits  ideally  the  circumscription  of  our  spirits  in  limits  of 
flesh  and  time,  and  practically  the  selfish  nature  with  which 
we  fall  from  the  likeness  of  God,  which  should  be  fulfilled  in 
man," 

But  this  application  of  "  ideology  "  to  doctrines  comes  to  its 
most  remarkable  results  in  his  speculations  (following  Buusen, 
in  part)  about  the  Trinity.     Ultimate  is  "  the  law  of  thought ;" 
this  law  is  "  consubstantial  with  the  being  of  the  Eternal  I 
AM.     Being,  becoming,  and  animating,  or,  substance,  thiidc- 
ing,  and  conscious  life,  are  expressions  of  a  Triad,  which  may 
be  also  represented  as  will,  wisdom,  and  love ;  as  light,  radi- 
ance, and  warmth;  as  fountain,  stream,  and  united  flow  ;  as 
mind,  thought,  and  consciousness ;  as  person,  word,  and  life ; 
as  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit."     "  The  Divine  Consciousness  or 
Wisdom,  consubstantial  with  the  Eternal  Will,  becoming  per- 
sonal in  the  Son  of  Man,  is  the  express  image  of  the  Father ; 
and  Jesus  actually,  but   also  mankind   ideally,  is  the  Son  of 
God.     If  all  this  has  a  Sabellian,  or  almost  a  Brahminical 
sound,  its  impugners  are  bound,  even  on  patristic  grounds,  to 
show  how  it  differs  from  the  doctrine  of  Justin  Martyr,  Ter- 
tnllian,    Ilippolytns,   Origen,  and    the    historian    Eusebius." 
We  appi-ehend  that  few  persons  have  read  this  doctrinal  expo- 
sition, without  some   slight  sense  of  bewilderment,  and   sus- 
pecting at  first  that  their  own  eyes  must  be  somewhat  blurred. 
Not  even  Bunsen  himself  was  ever  quite  so  involved.     Lan- 
guage is  fairly  turned  topsy-turvy  ;  and  thought,  logic,  and 
history  are  equally  defied.     Sabellianism  is  clearness  itself  in 
the  comparison.      To  call  it  Brahminism   is  al)surd.     It  is 
most   like  the    logical   pantheism   of   the  school  of   Hegel; 
but  no  Hegelian  was  ever  yet  guilty  of  concocting  such  a 
jumble.     While  we  have  entire   respect,  and  even  sympathy, 
for  those  views  of  the  Trinity  and  Incarnation,  which  find  in 
these  mysteries  substantial  truth  and  rational  elements ;  and 
while  we  also  believe,  that   that   view  of  the  divine  nature 
which  makes  it  inconsistent  with  the  Incarnation  and  Trinity 
is  philosophically  imperfect  as  well  as  Scripturally  incorrect; 
we  camiot  find  in  such  caricatures  as  this  anvthing  that  minis- 


192  THE    NEW    LATITUDINAEIANS    OF    ENGLAND. 

ters  either  to  faith  or  knowledge.  It  shows,  that  the  aiitlior 
had  read  just  enough  of  Bunsen,  and  perhaps  Hegel,  to  be 
confused  and  overawed.  Let  lis  look  at  it  a  moment.  The 
"  law  of  thought"  (not  thought  itself)  is  consnhstantial  (not 
merely  identical)  with  the  Being  of  the  Eternal  I  AM  ;  i.  e., 
the  law  of  thought  is  of  the  same  substance  with  the  beinor. 
Can  any  body  tell  what  that  means  ?  What  is  this  law  of 
thought  (which  is  also  Being)  ?  It  is  given  in  a  series  of  tri- 
ads— which  are,  of  course,  meant  to  be  coord  in  ate — according 
to  which  it  appears  that  the  lirst  one  in  the  triad  may  be  called, 
either  being,  or  substance,  or  will,  or  light,  or  mind,  or  person, 
or  the  Father  ;  the  second  one  is,  becoming,  or  thinking,  or 
wisdom,  or  thought,  or  word,  or  the  Son  ;  the  third  is,  ani- 
mating, or  conscious  life,  or  love,  or  warmth,  or  consciousness, 
or  life,  or  the  Spirit.  By  what  process  of  consistent  thouglit 
can  these  terms  be  thus  used?  How  can  the  first  be  '  mind,' 
or  ' person,' without  presupposing  the  'thought'  of  the  sec- 
ond, or  the  'consciousness'  of  the  third?  Can  any  just 
distinction  be  traced  between  the  '  mind '  of  the  first,  the 
'thought'  of  the  second,  and  the  '  consciousness  '  of  the  third  ? 
If  the  first  is  already  '  person,'  what  means  it,  that  conscious- 
ness is  relegated  to  the  third  member?  And  the  confusion 
becomes  still  more  palpable,  when  our  philosophical  theolo- 
gian goes  on  to  assure  us,  that  the  "  divine  consciousness  or 
Wisdom "(' consciousness '  was  just  before  the  third,  and 
'  wisdom  '  the  second,  but  now  they  are  identified)  "  consub- 
stantial  with  the  Eternal  AVill,  becomes  personal  in  the  Son 
of  Man."  But  "  person  "  had  already  been  given  as  an  equiv- 
alent for  the  first  member  of  the  Triad  ;  now  it  seems,  that 
though  there  was  "  person,"  there  was  not  any  thing  "  per- 
sonal," until  the  Son  of  God  appeared.  And  then,  too,  how 
is  '  consciousness  '  the  same  as  '  wisdom,'  and  how  are  either 
or  both  '  con  substantial  with  will '  ?  We  confess,  that  we  have 
not  the  least  idea  what  the  writer  means.  He  intimates,  that 
it  might  be  called  Sabellianism  ;  but  Sabellianism,  though  an 
inadequate,  is  a  perfectly  well  defined  theory,  viz.,  that  the 
original  deity  (Monas),  through  and   by  the  Logos,  becomes 


A   FABKAGO    OF   WORDS.  193 

Son  and  Spirit  (one  interpretation  says,  Father,  Son  and 
Spirit),  in  the  manifestation.  What  has  that  theory  in  com- 
mon with  such  a  farrago  of  words  ?  And  when  Dr.  Williams 
proceeds  to  say,  that  his  notion  "  does  not  differ  from  the  doc- 
trine of  Justin  Martyr,  Tertullian,  Hippolytus,  Origen,  and 
the  histoi'ian  Eusebius,"  he  either  betrays  his  own  profound 
ignorance  of  the  subject,  or  is  imposing  on  the  ignorance  of 
his  readers.  There  is  almost  nothing  in  common.  Justin 
Martyr  identifies  the  Logos  with  Christ,  and  illustrates  the 
incarnation  by  the  relation  of  speech  to  mind,  but  he  rejects 
the  illustration  from  the  sun  and  its  beams.  Oi-io-en  held  that 
the  Logos  (Son)  is  God,  is  personal,  and  subordinate  ;  and  he 
introduced  the  phraseology  of  an  '  eternal  generation';  but 
he  carefully  avoided  everything  that  looked  like  a  physical 
emanation.  Tertullian  speaks  of  a  Trinity  of  one  Divinity, 
the  Father,  the  Son  and  the  Spirit ;  and  he  uses  the  illustra- 
tions of  fountain,  stream  and  river,  of  root,  branch  and  fruit, 
purely  as  comparisons.  In  the  theory  of  Hippolytus,  the 
Logos  is  the  sum  of  the  divine  reason,  and  issues  forth  as  a 
distinct  hypostasis  to  create  the  world.  The  clear  head  of 
the  historian  Eusebius  made  him  inclined  to  Semi-Arianism, 
which  is  at  the  utmost  remove  from  all  such  mystical  theo- 
rizing as  Dr.  Williams  attributes  to  him.  And  wliatever  un- 
certainty there  may  be  about  the  opinions  of  some  of  these 
teachers  of  the  church  in  relation  to  the  formulas  subsequently 
elaborated,  there  can  be  no  doubt,  that  none  of  them  ever 
adopted  a  theory  which  either  identified  thought  and  being, 
or  made  the  Trinity  to  be  equivalent  to  a  logical  process. 

Lispiration  having  been  resolved  into  general  illumination, 
prophecy  into  sagacious  anticipations,  and  the  Christian  dog- 
mas into  ideology,  we  are  prepared  for  the  next  step,  taken  by 
Pj'ofessor  Powell,  in  his  Essay  on  the  Evidences  of  Christian- 
ity, viz.,  the  denial  of  the  validity  of  all  external  corrobora- 
tions of  a  revelation  ;  and  the  assertion  of  the  impossibility  of 
miraculous  intervention.  His  previous  ^vorks  on  the  Order  of 
Nature  in  Reference  to  the  Claims  of  Revelation,  and  on  the 

Spirit  of  the  Inductive  Philosophy,  contained  the  principles 
13 


194:  THE    NEW    LATITUDINAEIANS   OF    ENGLAND. 

wliicli  are  here  applied  in  a  more  popular  and  discursive  man- 
ner. As  we  have  been  promised  a  review  of  his  general  posi- 
tion in  respect  to  the  Evidences,  we  give  only  an  outline  of  his 
positions.  He  asserts  that  the  main  appeal  of  the  writers  on 
Evidence  in  the  seventeenth  century  w^as  "  to  the  mirades  of 
the  Gospel ; "  to  mere  external  testimony,  the  testimony  of  the 
senses ;  and  assumes,  that  the  progress  of  physical  research  has 
nullified  all  possible  valid  evidence  from  this  quarter.  But 
Mr.  Pattison,  in  this  same  volume,  says,  that  until  1750,  "the 
internal  evidences"  were  most  insisted  upon  in  England;  that 
"  the  main  endeavor  was  to  show,  that  there  was  nothing  in  the 
contents  of  revelation  which  was  not  agreeable  to  reason"  (p. 
286).  And  it  is  a  fact,  verified  by  the  whole  history  of  theol- 
ogy, that  the  internal  evidences  have  always  been  most  in- 
sisted upon,  wherever  Christian  doctrine  has  been  most  firmly 
held,  that  the  most  orthodox  have  most  relied  on  this  argument; 
and  that  those  writers  who  have  dwelt  more  exclusi\'ely  on  the 
external  evidences  (as  Paley  and  his  school)  have  been  com- 
paratively indifferent  to  specific  Christian  truth,  and  a  vital 
Christian  experience.  A  formal  church  relies  on  external 
authority ;  a  formal  creed  is  apt  to  insist  on  the  outworks,  as 
if  they  were  the  citadel.  There  was  also  another  reason,  why 
so  much  stress  was  laid  on  miracles  in  the  last  centurj^  Though 
they  are  not  the  only,  or  the  highest  evidence,  they  are  yet 
essential  to  the  Christian  system  as  a  supernatural  and  historic 
revelation.  After  Hume's  speculations,  miracles  became  in 
England,  and  even  on  the  continent,  a  test  question  as  to  the 
reality  of  a  divine  agency,  not  limited  or  circumscribed  by  the 
fixed  succession  of  events  in  nature.  The  real  question  was,  not 
merely  that  of  evidence  to  a  revelation,  but  whether  deism  or 
even  atheism  was  to  triumph  over  Christian  theism.  Is  there — 
as  Mr.  Powell  expresses  it,  "  only  the  invariable  operation  of 
a  series  of  eternally  impressed  consequences,  following  in  some 
necessary  chain  of  orderly  connection  ?  "  The  belief  in  Provi- 
dence was  at  stake,  as  well  as  the  belief  in  a  revelation.  The 
ultimate  question  was  as  to  the  very  idea  of  God  ;  whether  he 
is  bound  to  the  order  of  nature,  or  is  above  it,  and  may  control 


PROFESSOR  Powell's  position  on  miracles.  195 

and  direct  it  to  some  wise  moral  end  ?  Hume  could  not  be- 
lieve in  a  miracle  because  he  did  not  believe  in  God.  The 
battle  was  nominally  about  the  evidences,  but  really  about  the 
question,  whether  there  are  efficient  causes  producing,  and 
final  causes  shaping,  the  order  of  the  universe. 

Professor  Powell's  position  as  to  miracles,  in  connection 
with  the  Evidences,  is,  that  if  they  were  "in  the  estimation 
of  a  former  age,  among  the  chief  supports  of  Christianity, 
they  are  at  present  among  the  main  difficulties^  and  hindran- 
ces to  its  acceptance  "  (p.  158).  The  believers  in  miracles, 
he  says,  are  possessed  by  certain  prepossessions  and  preju- 
dices, by  which  they  interpret  testimony,  and  get  out  of  it  a 
great  deal  more  than  it  can  possibly  contain.  But  Mr. 
Powell  has  no  such  a  priori  principles,  excepting  perhaps 
this  one — viz.,  that  the  order  of  nature  cannot  be  interrupted. 
"The  entire  range  of  the  inductive  philosophy,"  he  says,  "  is 
at  once  based  upon,  and  in  every  instance  tends  to  confirm, 
by  immense  accumulation  of  evidence,  the  grand  truth  of  the 
universal  order  and  constancy  of  natural  causes,  as  a  pri- 
inary  lav)  of  belief,  so  stronglj^  entertained  and  fixed  in  the 
mind  of  every  truly  inductive  inquirer,  that  he  cannot  even 
conceive  the  jwssihility  of  its  failure,''''  This  is  really  a  deifi- 
cation of  natural  law.  It  confounds,  as  Mr.  Powell  does 
throughout  his  disquisition,  the  rational  principle  of  caus- 
ality, w^ith  the  empirical  facts  of  orderly  sequence.  The 
"  primary  law  of  belief  "  is,  that  there  can  be  no  event  with- 
out a  cause.  "  The  universal  order  and  constancy  of  natural 
causes  "  is  no  primary  belief  at  all.  This  order  may  be  vio- 
lated, without  violating  the  principle  of  causality.  This  is 
conceded  even  by  John  Stuart  Mill,  who  says  in  his  Logic — 
"  A  mii-acle  (as  was  justly  remarked  by  Brown)  is  no  contra- 
diction of  the  law  of  cause  and  effect ;  it  is  a  new  eff^ect, 
supposed  to  be  produced  by  the  introduction  of  a  new  cause. 
Of  the  adequacy  of  that  cause,  if  it  exist,  there  can  be  no 
doubt."  This  single  position  upsets  the  logical  force  of  Mr. 
Powell's  whole  argument.  He  has  no  thorough  understand- 
ing of  his  own  position.     In  his  zeal  to  establish   it,  he  even 


196  THE    NEW    LATITUDIXAEIANS    OF    ENGLAND, 

goes  SO  far  as  to  deny  that  the  omnipotence  of  God  can  be 
proved  from  natural  theology,  saying  (p.  128)  "  that  it  is  en- 
tirely an  inference  from  the  language  of  the  B'lhle,  adopted 
on  the  «ss^m^j9^J^(??^  of  a  belief  in  revelation."  But  if  these 
natural  attributes  of  God  are  proved  only  by  revelation,  how 
can  the  revelation  itself  be  proved  ?  Professor  Powell  does 
not  mean,  we  suppose,  to  deny  the  being  or  perfections  of 
God  ;  he  expresses  (p.  129)  a  dissent  from  "  the  first  prin- 
ciples "  of  Emerson  and  Prof.  Newman  ;  he  even  admits  the 
fact  of  a  revelation.  But  all  this  only  makes  the  confusion 
of  his  argument  still  more  hopeless.  Even  Hume  and  Mill 
would  admit  the  possibility  of  miracles,  on  the  supposition 
that  there  is  a  God.  But  Mr.  Powell  believes  in  a  God  and 
denies  the  possibility  of  miracles.  His  objections  to  the 
proof  by  testimony  have  been  often  refuted  ;  tliey  are  not  as 
sharply  put  as  in  the  writings  of  Hume  ;  and  they  lose  their 
cliief  force,  if  his  principles  about  the  inviolability  of  natural 
laws  is  unsound.  His  idolatry  of  mere  pliysical  law  is  car- 
ried to  a  greater  extent  than  in  almost  any  modern  writer  of 
repute,  outside  of  the  schools  of  materialism  and  "  j^ositiv- 
ism."  He  speaks  of  the  "  incmiceivahleness  of  imagined  in- 
terruptions of  the  natural  order,  or  supposed  suspensions  of 
the  laws  of  matter"  (p.  124);  he  talks  of  "the  universal 
self-sustaining  and  self-evolving  powers  of  nature  "  ;  he  per- 
verts Professor  Owen's  Address  before  the  British  Associa- 
tion, so  as  to  make  it  sanction  the  theory,  that  "  creation  is 
only  another  name  for  our  ignorance  of  the  mode  of  produc- 
tion " ;  he  advocates,  more  categorically  than  Darwin  him- 
self, the  law  of  "  natural  selection,"  and  the  hypothesis  that 
"new  species  can  be  originated  by  natural  causes."  He 
even  implies  (p.  150)  that  "  ultimate  ideas  of  universal  caus- 
ation "  can  be  "  familiar  only  to  those  versed  in  cosmical 
philosophy  in  its  widest  sense  "  ;  which  is  the  very  reverse 
of  the  truth,  since  universal  causation  cannot  be  found  in 
cosmical,  but  only  in  rational  philosophy.  He  asserts  that 
"  in  nature  and  from  nature,  by  science  and  reason,  we 
neither  have  nor  can  possibly  have,  any  evidence  of  a  Deity 


PROFESSOR   POWELL  S   DILEMMA.  197 

working  miracles ;  for  that  we  must  go  out  of  nature  and 
beyond  science." 

And  yet  with  all  this,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  Prof.  Powell 
seems  to  admit  a  positive  revelation,  and  the  necessity  of  re- 
ligioiis  faith.  It  sounds  like  the  irony  of  Hume  (though  we 
cannot  believe  that  it  is  so),  when  he  reduces  the  whole  mat- 
ter, in  the  clearest  statement  found  in  his  involved  and  repe- 
titious essay,  to  the  alternative,  that  an  alleged  miracle  is, 
either,  a  physical  event,  and  so  to  be  explained  by  physical 
laws  alone ;  or,  an  event  "  asserted  on  the  authority  of  in- 
spiration," in  which  case  "  it  ceases  to  be  capable  of  investi- 
gation by  reason,  or  to  own  its  dominion.  It  is  accepted  on 
religious  grounds,  and  can  appeal  only  to  the  principle  and 
influence  of  faith."  His  whole  argument  goes  to  show,  that 
a  scientific  and  reasonable  man  cannot  accept  it  on  the  latter 
grounds.  And  yet  he  affirms  that  "  intellect  and  philosophy  " 
"  admit  the  higher  claims  of  divine  mysteries  in  the  invisible 
and  spiritual  world  "  ;  that  "  reason  and  science  conspire  to 
the  confession,  that,  beyond  the  domain  of  physical  causation 
and  the  possible  conceptions  of  intellect  or  knoivledge,  there 
lies  open  the  boundless  region  of  spiritual  things,  which  is 
tlie  sole  dominion  of  faith  "  (p.  143).  Such  statements,  now, 
prove  irresistibly  one  of  two  tilings  :  and  in  either  case  this 
dissertation  is  robbed  of  its  force  as  an  argument.  Either 
Prof.  Powell  admits  a  real  revelation  of  spiritual  truth  from 
a  Divine  Being,  addressed  to  faith,  which  we  may  and  must 
rest  in  ;  or  he  does  not.  If  he  does  admit  this,  then  his  argu- 
ment against  the  possibility  of  miracles  falls  to  the  ground  ; 
for  he  has  correctl}^  stated  (p.  159)  that  the  "  real  question, 
after  all,  is  not  the  mere  fact,  but  the  cause  or  explanation 
of  it."  If  he  does  not  admit  this,  then  his  whole  argument 
is  needless :  for  he  had  only,  in  that  case,  to  say,  I  do  not 
believe  in  a  God,  and  therefore  cannot  believe  in  a  miracle. 
If  he  does  not  believe  in  a  God,  his  essay  is  an  intentional 
and  barefaced  deception.  If  he  does  believe  in  a  God,  the 
foundation  of  his  reasonings  is  undermined.  And  at  the 
very  best,  he  leaves  such  a  dualism  between  philosophy  and 


198  THE    NEW    LATITUDn^AKIAXS    OF    ENGLAND. 

faith,  between  science  and  religion — a  dualism  so  broadly 
stated,  so  totally  nnreconciled,  as  to  show,  that  he  has  not 
thoroughly  studied  the  relations  of  this  vital  subject.  To 
state  the  relations  of  the  two  is  the  great  problem  to  which 
his  discussions  should  have  converged.  He  does  not  investi- 
gate his  problem  at  all.  No  Christian  believer  can  accept 
the  dilemma  as  he  puts  it.  Every  unbeliever  will  welcome 
his  positions  as  really  proving  that  physical  science  is  su- 
preme, and  that  faith  is  essentially  unreasonable.  He  ban- 
ishes all  revelation  to  the  sphere  of  subjective  experience, 
and  thus  deprives  it  of  all  objective  or  historical  validity. 

The  same  unwillinguess  or  incompetence  to  deal  with  a 
great  subject  in  its  larger  relations,  is  shown  in  the  fourth 
Essay,  on  the  National  Church,  by  Henry  Bristow  Wilson, 
B.D.,  Vicar  of  Great  Stoughton,  Hunts.  The  subject  sug- 
gested by  the  title  is  the  great  question  of  the  union  of  church 
and  state,  which  is  at  the  heart  of  European  and  British 
politics.  Can  there  really  be  a  National  Church  in  the  pres- 
ent state  of  opinion  in  England  ?  Is  not  the  dissolution  of 
the  unnatural  union  of  church  and  state  necessary  to  the  sal- 
vation of  Christianity  ?  What  are  the  respective  principles, 
rights  and  position  of  the  church  and  the  state  ?  These  are 
grave  and  fundauieutal  inquiries,  with  which  Mr.  Wilson 
intermeddleth  not.  He  brings  the  whole  matter  down  to  in- 
dividual and  local  interests — to  the  question  of  personal  sub- 
scription to  the  Articles.  He  wants  to  find  out  how  he  can 
hold  the  opinions  he  does  hold,  and  remain  Yicar  of  Great 
Stoughton.  And  his  argument  is  a  good  one,  provided  he 
can  interpret  the  terms  of  subscription  in  the  same  way  as  he 
interprets  Scripture  and  the  creeds.  He  accepts  the  whole 
of  Scripture,  interpreting  it  as  symbol  and  allegory  and 
parable,  doubting  its  history,  and  idealising  its  doctriues :  he 
can  accept  any  creed,  putting  it  through  the  "ideological 
process ; "  and  there  is  therefore  no  logical  difficulty  in  his 
subscribing  to  the  Articles.  By  an  ingenious,  not  to  say 
Jesuitical,  mode  of  explaining  them,  he  shows  very  clearly 
how  a  person  can  at  one  and  the  same  time  deny  and  confess 


am.    WILSON    ON    SUBSCRIPTION.  199' 

the  fundamental  points  of  belief.  And  this  same  person  was 
one  of  the  Four  Tutors,  who  on  the  9th  of  March,  1841,  pub- 
lished a  Protest  against  the  notorious  Tract  XC,  saying, 
"  that  the  modes  of  interpretation  suggested  in  that  Tract, 
evading  rather  than  explaining  the  sense  of  the  Thirty-nine 
Articles  .  .  .  are  inconsistent  with  the  due  observance  of  the 
Statutes ;  "  asserting  that  this  Tract  "  has  a  highly  dangerous 
tendency,"  and  "  puts  forward  new  and  startling  views  as  to 
the  extent  to  which  that  liberty  may  be  carried."  *  It  is 
really  humiliating  to  trace  the  process  by  which  he  defends 
the  subscription  of  himself  and  others  of  like  mind.  He  is 
obliged  to  assent  to  the  Canons  (5  and  36)  of  1603,  which 
assert  that  those  are  "worthy  of  excommunication"  "who 
affirm  that  any  of  the  Thirty-nine  Articles  are  in  any  part 
superstitious  or  erroneous ; "  but  he  suggests  that  they  may 
be  '  inexpedient '  and  '  unintelligible,'  without  being  '  erro- 
neous ; '  and  that  "  without  being  superstitious,  some  of  the 
expressions  may  appear  so."  In  interpreting  the  36th  canou, 
which  reads,  '  he  alloioeth  the  books  of  articles,  .  .  .  and 
achnowledgeth  the  same  to  be  agreeable  to  the  Word  of  God,' 
he  resorts  to  the  subterfuge  of  explaining  '  allow '  in  the 
feeble,  modern  sense  of  '  acquiescence '  or  '  submission,'  in- 
stead of  the  undoubted  sense  of  '  approve,'  in  which  it  is 
there  used  ;  and  so,  too,  he  asserts  that  one  "  may  acknowledge 
what  he  does  not  maintain  .  .  .  meaning  only  that  he  is  not 
prepared  to  contradict ; "  and  that  "  agreeable  to  God's 
Word "  means,  "  they  have  the  same  sense  in  the  Articles 
that  they  have  in  Scripture,  or  do  not  contradict  it ; "  and 
then  he  interprets  Scripture  as  "  parable,  poetry  or  legend," 
as  "literal  or  allegorical,"  as  containing  "inadequate  state- 
ments," and  "  dark  patches  of  human  passion  and  error." 
He  can  undoubtedly  receive  the  Articles  just  as  he  receives 
the  Bible :  the  same  principles  of  interpretation  that  apply 
to  the  one  will  do  for  the  other.  But  does  not  all  this  show 
that  these   principles  of  interpretation  enfeeble  the   moral 

*  See  '  Certain  Documents  connected  with  Tracts  for  the  Times,'  No.  90, 
Oxford,  18-41  ;  cited  in  the  Quarterly  Review  (Loudon),  Jan.,  1861. 


200  THE    NEW    LATITUDESTARIANS    OF    ENGLAND. 

judgment?  Ought  not  Pascal's  Provincial  Letters  to  be  cir- 
culated anew?  If  all  this  be  "allowable,"  another  clause 
must  be  added  to  the  old  satire  about  the  Church  of  England  : 
it  not  only  has  "  a  Popish  Prajer-JBook,  an  Arminian  clergy, 
and  Calvinistic  Articles,"  but  also  Rationalistic  InterjDreters, 
From  the  statements  and  intimations  which  Mr.  Wilson 
gives  about  his  views,  we  do  not  wonder  that  he  feels  uneasy 
under  the  yoke  of  subscription,  and  is  very  much  tempted  to 
defend  his  main  position,  that  "  a  national  church  need  not, 
historically  speaking,  be  Christian^  Some  of  his  opinions, 
as  incidentally  or  expressly  avowed,  are :  that  the  sacred 
writers  often  give  us  "  their  own  inadequate  conceptions,  and 
not  the  mind  of  the  Spirit ; "  that  many  of  the  Scriptural 
prophecies,  aj)plicable  to  things  already  past,  "  have  never 
been  fulfilled  ; "  that  the  world  was  in  no  special  need  of  a 
revelation  when  Christ  came  (p.  175) ;  that  the  doctrines  of 
the  Kew  Testament  "  were  for  the  most  part  applicable  only 
to  those  to  whom  the  preaching  of  Christ  should  come ; " 
that  the  Gospels  contain  "  legendary  matter  and  embellish- 
ment ;  '■  that  there  is  no  trustworthy  Old  Testament  history 
before  the  taking  of  Jerusalem  by  Shishak ;  that  the  first 
three  Gospels  are  irreconcilable ;  that  John's  Gospel  was  not 
b}'  the  Apostle ;  that  "  St.  John's  view  was  much  narrower 
than  St.  Paul's,"  and  Paul's  charity  was  more  ample  than 
John's ;  that  the  resurrection  may  be  denied,  and  a  man  still 
be  Christian  (p.  1S4);  that  excommunication  in  the  jirimitive 
church  was  only  for  immoralit}^,  and  that  that  church  was 
'  multitudinist ; '  that  a  Book  may  be  canonical  and  not  in- 
spired (p.  107j;  that  there  were  in  the  apostolic  church  'very 
distinct  Christologies  '  (p.  201) ;  that  Calvinists  must  believe 
that  "  all  others  than  themselves"  "  belong  to  the  world;" 
that  Arian,  Pelagian,  Lutheran  and  Calvinistic  views  are  all 
to  be  merged  into  the  ethical  and  moral ;  that  the  idea  of  an 
'isolated'  individual  salvation,  'the  rescuing  one's  self,'  'the 
grace  bestowed  on  one's  own  labors,'  '  the  crown  of  glory,' 
and  '  the  finality  of  the  sentence,'  '  unfit  men  for  this  world, 
and  prepare   them  very  ill  for  that  which  is  to  come;'  that 


MR.  Wilson's  peinciples  those  of  steauss.  201 

tlie  'application  of  ideology  to  Scripture,  to  the  doctrines  of 
Christianity,  and  to  the  formularies,'  though  Strauss  '  carried 
it  to  excess,'  is  yet  the  great  means  of  insuring  unity  and 
peace,  and  that  'liberty  must  be  left  to  all  as  to  the  extent  in 
whicli  they  apply  the  principle.'  By  this  ideology,  Jesus  is 
'  Son  of  David,'  '  Prince  of  Peace,'  and  '  High  Priest,'  all  in 
the  same  way,  not  as  fact,  but  in  '  idea ' :  the  '  incarnification 
of  the  divine  Immanuel  remains,'  although  the  '  angelic  ap- 
pearances'  are  'ideal'  (p.  228).  But  what  is  to  keep  any 
one  from  idealizing  in  the  same  way  the  '  incarnification '  (if 
this  word  does  not  already  do  it),  and  the  resurrection,  and 
the  atonement,  and  the  life  everlasting?  And,  in  fact, 
all  that  he  leaves  of  the  Scriptural  doctrine  of  a  future 
state  is,  as  expressed  in  the  concluding  sentence  (p.  232), 
the  hope  that  "  all,  both  small  and  great,  shall  find  a  refuge  in 
the  bosom  of  the  Universal  Parent,  to  rejpose^  or  be  quickened 
into  higher  life,  in  the  ages  to  come,  according  to  his  will." 
And  thus  here  again  we  have  the  same  tendency,  as  to  both 
fact  and  doctrine,  carried  out  with  even  greater  assurance, 
and  more  boldly  avowed,  which  indicates  the  real  position  of 
these  essayists  in  the  present  conflict  between  rationalism 
and  Christianity.  Mr.  Wilson  adopts,  in  fact,  every  princi- 
ple of  criticism  and  interpretation  contained  in  Strauss's 
Life  of  Christ,  and  the  writino;s  of  the  Tiibiuixen  school.  If 
he  is  not  aware  of  the  inevitable  tendency  and  logical  results 
of  these  principles,  he  is  deplorably  ignorant  of  the  themes 
on  which  he  writes;  if  he  is  awai'e  of  them,  and  is  still  a 
believer  in  positive  Christianity,  he  is  betraying  the  cause, 
Mdiich  in  his  position  he  ought  to  defend  :  if  he  cannot  defend 
it,  he  is  bound  as  an  honest  man  to  say  so,  and  give  up  his 
position  and  emoluments  in  the  church  which  fosters  him 
while  he  is  enlisted  in  its  subversion. 

It  is  no  wonder  that,  holding  such  views,  and  holding  on  to 
the  church,  he  is  anxious  to  '  multitudinize'  it — to  resolve  it 
into  a  mere  moral  society,  with  only  ethical  ends  in  view.  A 
"  national  church,"  he  says,  "  need  not,  historically  speaking, 
be  Christian.  ,  .  .  That  which  is  essential  to  a  national  church 


202  THE    NEW    LATITDDINAEIANS    OF    ENGLAND, 

is,  that  it  should  undertake  to  assist  the  spii-itual  progress  of  the 
nation  and  of  tlie  individuals  of  which  it  is  composed,  in  their 
several  states  and  stages."  *  What  his  project  amounts  to  is 
this — ethics  and  ideology  shall  be  nationalized,  and  called 
a  church.  But  the  establishment  of  such  a  church  is  the 
abolition  of  the  church ;  it  is  the  baptism  of  scepticism 
with  the  name  of  the  church  ;  it  is  the  overthrow  of  histori- 
cal Christianity.  Scepticism,  he  virtually  says,  is  so  widely 
diffused  that,  if  we  are  to  have  a  national  church,  it  must  be 
on  a  basis  which  will  admit  sceptics ;  otherwise  the  church  can- 
not be  national.  And  when  this  alternative  is  presented  to 
the  English  people,  we  doubt  not  that  they  will  denationalize 
the  church,  rather  than  nationalize  rationalism.  It  is  better 
to  save  Christianity,  than  to  continue  the  union  of  church  and 
state  at  such  a  fearful  cost.  '  Multitudinism '  is  a  sign  of 
latitudinarianism,  and  not  its  remedy. 

The  contribution  of  Mr.  C.  W.  Goodwin  to  this  volume  is 
the  least  ambitious  of  the  series ;  it  does  not  pretend  to  give 
the  writer's  dicta  and  judgments  on  all  the  most  important 
questions  of  the  day  in  forty  or  fifty  pages  :  it  confines  itself 
to  the  Mosaic  Cosmogony,  considered  "  as  the  speculation  of 
some  Hebrew  Descartes  or  Newton,  promulgated  in  all  good 
faith  as  the  best  and  most  ]3robable  account  that  could  then  be 
given  of  God's  universe  "  (p.  277).  He  disposes  of  the  diffi- 
culty, "  that  the  writer  asserts  so  solemnly  and  unhesitatingly, 
that  for  which  he  must  have  known  that  he  had  no  authority," 
by  suggesting,  tliat  "  modesty  of  assertion "  is  the  peculiar 
quality  of  "modern  habits  of  thought,"  the  result  "of  the 
spirit  of  true  science."  Perhaps  Mr.  Goodwin  and  the  men 
of  modern  science  are  more  "  modest "  than  Moses  and  the 


*  Mr.  Wilson  wants  to  have  the  clergymen  of  the  Church  of  England  as 
exempt  from  the  obligation  to  subscription  as  are  the  laymen.  The  Chris- 
tian Remembrancer,  Oct.  1800,  p.  345,  says,  that  persons  professing  them- 
selves members  of  the  Church  of  England  may  in  private  life  hold  what  they 
please,  "  for  they  are  never  obliged  to  express  their  assent  either  to  articles 
of  religion  or  formularies  of  faith  ;  and  so  the  clergyman  who  was  under  the 
same  law  of  liberty  might  be  allowed  to  believe  anything  or  nothing." 


DK.  PATTISON  S   ESSAY.  203 

prophets  :  although  we  confess  we  should  hardly  have  inferred 
as  much  from  the  present  volume.  The  object  of  this  essay  is 
to  expose  the  utter  futility  of  all  attempts  to  reconcile  Genesis 
and  Geology.  This  is  achieved  by  taking  for  granted  that 
Genesis  means  to  teach  truth  in  a  scientific  way ;  that  it  must 
be  literally  interpreted  ;  and  that  Geology  has  arrived  at 
final  results  about  Cosmogony.  Nothing  in  the  way  of  fact 
and  argument  is  advanced  which  has  not  been  long  familiar 
to  the  scientific  and  Christian  world — nothino;  which  has 
not  been  examined  in  the  works  of  Huo^h  Miller  in  England 
recently,  in  the  Archaia  of  Dawes,  and  in  the  treatises 
of  President  Hitchcock  and  Dr.  Tayler  Lewis  in  our  own 
country. 

Dr.  Mark  Pattison's  essay  on  the  Tendencies  of  Religious 
Thought  in  England,  1688-1750,  is  a  valuable  and  historical 
investigation,  chiefly  upon  the  great  Deistical  Controversy,  in 
which  England  led  the  way.  The  general  external  characteris- 
tics of  this  dispute,  the  points  made,  the  principles  debated,  are 
candidly  stated,  and  illustrated  with  much  of  curious  learning. 
That  age  is  described  as  "  destitute  of  depth  or  earnestness  ;  an 
age  whose  poetry  was  without  romance,  whose  philosophy  was 
without  insight,  and  whose  public  men  were  without  charac- 
ter." As  far  as  deism  and  the  Christian  evidences  are  con- 
cerned, the  point  insisted  upon  is,  that  the  defenders  of 
Christianity  made  up  a  '  conventional '  case.  Up  to  about  17-10, 
the  main  object  was  to  show  the  reasonableness  of  Christianity : 
during  the  latter  part  of  the  eighteenth  century,  the  argument 
had  chief  respect  to  the  external  evidences.  The  Wesleyan 
reaction  was  chiefly  in  the  sphere  of  personal  experience.  A 
f  wider  reactionary  movement  began  with  the  publication  of 
the  Tracts  for  the  Times,  1833.  The  argument  during  the  last 
century  was  upon  the  whole  favoi-able  to  Christianity  :  it  left 
the  matter  in  about  this  position,  that "  there  were  three  chances 
for  revelation,  and  only  two  against  it."  But  Dr.  Pattison 
makes  out  a  stronger  case  against  the  theology  of  the  last  cen- 
tury than  the  facts  fully  warrant ;  it  is  not  fairly  described  as 
a  "  home-baked  theology,"  or  an  "  Old  Bailey   theology,   in 


204  THE   NEW   LATITUDINARIANS    OF    ENGLAND. 

which,  to  use  Johnson's  ilhistration,  the  Apostles  are  being 
tried  once  a  week  for  the  capital  crime  of  forgery ; "  nor  is  it 
true,  "  that  the  more  they  demonstrated,  the  less  people  be- 
lieved." Locke,  Bentley,  Berkeley,  Butler,  Samuel  Clarke, 
Warburton  and  Paley  have  not,  even  among  the  men  of  Mr. 
Pattison's  school,  their  peers  in  strength  and  acuteness  of  intel- 
lect, in  vigor  of  ratiocination,  in  candor  of  judgment,  in  gen- 
eral learning,  or  in  polemic  power.  By  the  force  of  intellect — 
for  they  did  not  find  much  of  religious  sensibility  in  their 
age  to  appeal  to,  thej^  rescued  England  from  the  preva- 
lence of  deism  and  infidelity  ;  they  overcame  at  home  the  ra- 
tionalism which  made  such  havoc  wlien  it  crossed  the  channel. 
With  one  single  exception,. that  of  Hume,  they  were  stronger 
and  abler  men  than  any  of  which  infidelity  could  make  its 
boast.  The  Anglican  Church,  and  England  itself,  owes  them 
a  debt  of  jirofound  gratitude  and  of  lasting  homage.  Were 
they  now  living,  or  men  of  equal  learning  and  power,  these 
Oxford  essayists  would  have  to  talk  with  bated  breath.  They 
did  not,  indeed,  discuss  the  questions  which  modern  criticism 
and  pantheism  have  raised  ;  but  they  did  discuss,  point  by 
point,  evei'y  argument  which  Toland,  Collins,  Shaftesbury, 
Woolston  and  Hume  advanced ;  and  they  did  this  in  a  manly 
English  way,  scorning  subterfuge,  and  not  taking  advantage 
of  their  position  in  the  Church  to  undermine  its  foundations. 
They  did  not  pretend  to  have  an  absolute  system  even  of 
Christian  truth ;  but  they  had  a  system,  and  knew  just  how 
far  they  could  be  piositive.  Tliey  did  not  appear  before  the 
public  to  insinuate  scepticism  under  the  guise  of  historic  can- 
dor, nor  to  marshal  all  the  difficulties  against  revelation  in 
strong  array,  without  suggesting  any  solution.  They  did  not, 
like  Mr.  Pattison,  review  the  past  history  of  the  Evidences  for 
Christianity  onl}^  to  show  that  these  evidences  were  entirely 
inadequate  ;  nor  close  such  a  review  of  the  most  important 
questions  that  can  be  debated,  with  an  intimation,  that  we  can- 
not find  a  sufiicient  basis  for  revelation,  either  in  Authority  or 
Peason,  or  the  Inward  Light,  or  in  self-evidencing  Scripture, 
or  in  a  combination  of  the  four.     This  neo^ative  result,  we 


PKOFESSOE    JOWETt's    TRACT.  205 

suppose,  is  wliat  gives  to  this  historic  review  a  place  in  these 
Essays  and  Eeviews. 

The  last  tract  in  the  series  is  on  the  Interpretation  of  Scrip- 
tnre,  by  the  Eegins  Professor  of  Greek  in  the  University  of 
Oxford.  It  is  beyond  all  qnestion  the  most  thonghtfnl,  care- 
fnlly  written,  ingenious  and  subtle  essay  in  the  book.  Its 
grace  and  charm  of  style,  its  tender  and  often  sad  tone,  its 
felicity  of  statement,  its  suggestive  art,  give  it  a  kind  of  fas- 
cination. It  perpetually  reminds  ns  of  a  skilful  surgeon,  wlio 
holds  the  sharp  knife  in  a  firm  but  tender  hand,  and  speaks 
most  persuasively  when  he  knows  that  he  is  cutting  most 
deeply.  It  has  none  of  the  arrogance  of  Williams,  or  the 
dogmatism  of  Powell,  or  the  assurance  of  Wilson ;  but  it  is  at 
the  same  time  more  insidious  than  any  of  them,  and  ecpially 
undermines  all  positive  faith,  not  only  in  creeds,  but  also  in 
the  inspired  authority  of  the  Sacred  Scriptures.  AYhat  the 
essay  apparently  has  in  view  is,  to  rescue  Scripture  from  ar- 
bitrary and  dogmatic  interpretations,  so  that  we  may  really 
know  just  what  it  means  to  say.  But  sup[)Ose  we  have  ascer- 
tained that  point — would  Mr.  Jowett  accept  its  statements  as 
final  and  authoritative  ?  He  certainly  could  not  receive  its 
statements  about  historic  facts,  as  having  any  more  authority 
than  those  of  any  other  book,  for  he  finds  inexplicable  contra- 
dictions. Would  he  then  rest  in  its  doctrinal  results  as  a 
finality  to  faith?  He  cannot  do  this,  for  he  denies  any  infal- 
lible inspiration.  Why  then  is  he  so  anxious  to  get  at  the 
real  sense  and  meanino;  of  the  word  ?  It  is  to  him  the  record 
of  a  past  age,  a  testimony  as  to  what  Paul  and  John  believed ; 
but  even  Paul  and  John,  he  says,  did  not  claim  a  specific, 
supernatural  inspiration.  "For  any  of  the  higher  or  super- 
natural views  of  inspiration  there  is  no  foundation  in  the 
Gospels  or  Epistles  "  (p.  379).  The  "  idea  of  a  progressive 
revelation  "  is  the  only  one  which  suits  the  case  :  a  revelation 
imperfect  and  even  erroneous  in  some  of  its  earlier  stages  and 
forms  of  statement ;  a  revelation  which  is  constantly  "  en- 
larged "  by  the  jirogress  of  science — enlarged  of  course  in 
this  way,  that  the  science  supersedes  the  written  word :  for 


206  THE    NEW   LATITUDINARIANS    OF    ENGLAND. 

'*'  revelation  and  science  reconcile  tlieraselves  Hie  moment  any 
scientific  truth  is  distinctly  ascertained  •'  (p.  383).  Tliere  is 
not,  then,  there  cannot  be,  any  final  revelation,  nntil  science 
has  arrived  at  its  final  conclusions.  All  that  precedes  is  a 
process  of  development.  There  cannot  be  any  binding  and 
ultimate  authority  in  the  written  Word,  even  if  criticism 
accomplished  its  full  work  upon  it,  and  told  us  just  what  it 
means.  The  seeming  object  of  the  essay  is  not  its  real  result. 
It  professes  to  wish  to  rescue  Scripture  from  perversion  ;  but 
the  argument  is  so  conducted,  that,  even  when  thus  rescued, 
it  has  no  supremacy  of  authority.  The  principles  on  which 
he  would  have  us  interpret  the  Book  forbid  our  receiving  it 
as  the  Woi-d  of  God. 

The  substance  of  the  argument  is  this.  No  book  has  been 
interpreted  in  so  arbitrary  and  confused  a  manner  as  the 
Bible.  Creeds  and  oj)inions  of  later  origin  are  interpolated 
into  its  very  words.  All  sects  see  themselves  in  this  volume 
— which  is  thus  a  mirror  rather  than  a  standard.  And  in 
fact,  Mr.  Jowett  grants,  that  they  can  all  find  sometliing  in  it 
to  support  their  views,  and  consequently  that  so  far  they  are 
not  altogether  wrong.  Unitarians,  who  deny  Christ's  divinity, 
have  perhaps  less  support  than  most  of  the  others,  though  at 
the  same  time  Trinitarians  certainly  cannot  find  the  Nicene 
or  Athanasian  creed  in  John  or  Paul.  It  is  plain  that  diver- 
sity is  not  got  rid  of,  by  saying,  that  the  Scriptures  themselves 
irive  a  basis  for  it.  What  then  is  the  intent  ?  Not  to  show 
that  they  are  all  equally  right,  but  all  equally  wrong  ;  that 
some  hint  of  their  views,  but  no  one  of  their  systems,  is  found 
in  the  Bible.  The  chaos  of  creeds  has  its  roots  in  the  Scrip- 
tures, but  the  Scriptures  do  not  decide  anything  definite  about 
any  of  them.  No  creed  in  Christendom,  not  even  the  Nicene, 
has  proper  Scriptural  warrant.  That  is,  if  we  hold  to  the 
Bible,  we  must  give  up  all  the  creeds ;  but  if  we  do,  what 
have  we  left?  Why,  a  book  which  sanctions  something  in  all 
these  perplexed  confessions ;  and  something  which  has  no 
final  authority. 

The  natural  principles  of  interpretation  which  Mr.  Jowett 


MR,  JOWETT  S    ASUMPTIONS    AND    ASSEKTIONS.  207 

propounds,  so  far  as  they  are  sound,  liave  been  very  familiar 
to  the  scholars  of  this  country.     The  words  of  Scripture  have 
a  proper  historical  and  philological  sense,  which  the  inter- 
preter is  to  find.      The  general  laws  of  language  apply  here. 
And  Mr.  Jowett  also  admits  that  the  analogy  of  faith,  in  a 
general  sense,  is  a  correct  principle  of  interpretation;  and  he 
concedes  a  remarkable  unity  in  the   diverse  books  of  Scrip- 
ture.    But  when  he  comes  to  apply  these  general  principles, 
he  makes  assumptions  and  assertions,  which  presuppose,  not 
only  that  we  are  to  interpret  the  Bible  according  to  gram- 
matical laws  applicable  to  other  books,  but  that  we  are  to  sub- 
ject its  sense  and  teachings  to  the  same  rules ;  that  is,  we  are  not 
to  interpret  it  as  an  inspired  book,  but  simply  as  a  book ;  and 
we  are  not  to  apply  its  truths  in  any  other  way  than  we  do  any 
other  truths.      We  are  neither  "  to  ada23t  the  truths  of  Scrip- 
ture to  the  doctrines  of  tlie  creed  ;"  nor  to  adapt  "precepts 
and  maxims  of  Scripture  to  the  language  or  practice  of  our 
age,"     We  are  to  "  interpret    the    Scripture  like  any  other 
book,"    although   "  there  are    many    i-espects    in   which   the 
Scripture  is  unlike  any  other  book"  (p.  416).    If  this  canon, 
thus  broadly  stated,  means  anything,  it  means   that  in  the 
business  of  interpretation  we  are  to  leave  out  of  sight  the 
cpiestion  or  fact  of  inspiration,  as  determining  what  authority 
we  shall  concede  to  the  declarations  of  the  book.      It  is  true, 
that  as  far  as  the  meaning  of  the  words  go,  we  are  to  inter- 
pret Scripture  as  we  do  other  books ;  that  is,  we  are  to  try 
and  understand  just  what  its  words   mean.      But  this   is  a 
very   different   thing  from  the  position,  that,  having    ascer- 
tained its  meaning,  we  are  to  judge  or  decide  about  its  truth 
or  falsity,  in  tlie  same  way  that  we  do  what  is  found  in  other 
books.      Here   is   where    revelation    and    inspiration    come 
in  with  a   controlling   influence.     Yet    Mr.    Jowett    perpet- 
ually confounds  these  two  things.     Thus— Scripture  contains 
prophecy  and  records  of  miracles ;  we  are  to  interpret  the 
account,  the  words,  according  to  the  laws  of  language;  but 
are  we  to  explain  the  miracle  and  prophecy  as  matters  of  fact, 
just  as  we  would  those  same  records  in  an  uninspired  volume  ? 


208  THE    NEW    LATITUDIXARIANS    OF    ENGLAND. 

Scripture,  say  these  literal  interpreters,  cannot  (e.  g.  in  propli 
ecy)  have  a  twofold  sense ;  but  why  may  not  the  same 
words  have  a  twofold  or  more  application  ?  We  are  to  inter- 
pret Scripture  by  its  own  genius  and  character,  just  as  we  do 
other  works  by  their  particular  genius  and  character ;  but 
what  is  this  genius  or  character  ?  The  real  question,  which 
Ml".  Jowett  perpetually  keeps  in  the  shade,  is  not  as  to  the 
rules  or  metliods  of  interpreting  language  ;  but  is  as  to  the 
authority  of  the  w^ords,  supposing  their  sense  ascertained. 
And  in  this  point  of  view"  the  question  of  inspiration  is  funda- 
mental, and  the  fact  of  inspiration  is  a  guide  in  interpretation. 
Mr.  Jowett's  theory  allows  him  to  hold  that  there  are  prophe- 
cies unfulfilled  (Jerem.  xxxvi.,  30,  Is.  xxiii.,  Amos  vii.,  10-17) ; 
that  there  "  are  probably  no  quotations  from  the  Psalms  and 
prophets"  in  the  Epistles,  "that  are  based  on  the  original 
sense  or  context ; "  that  alleged  miracles  were  not  really  per- 
formed ;  that  there  are  irreconcilable  contradictions  *  in  the 
Gospels  ;  that  the  Old  Testament  attributes  to  God  actions  at 
variance  with  the  New  ;  that  the  personality  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  is  figurative  ;  that  original  sin  has  its  support  only  in 
"  two  figurative  expressions  of  St.  Paul."  In  fact  his  whole 
theory  as  to  the  origin  and  cliaracter  of  the  Gospels  would 
prevent  him  from  drawing  final  teachings  from  its  reports  of 
our  Saviour's  words.  The  result  of  criticism,  he  declares,  is 
"  that  we  can  no  longer  speak  of  three  independent  witnesses 
of  the  Gospel  narrative ; "  we  need  not  try  to  "  reconcile  their 
inconsistencies,"  all  we  need  do  is  to  put  them  "  alongside  of 
each  other  "  (p.  405).  It  is  in  fact,  he  says,  not  "  easy  to  say, 
what  is  the  meaning  of  '  proving  a  doctrine  '  from  Scripture ;  " 
.  .  .  "  when  we  balance  adverse  statements,  St.  James  and 
St.  Paul,  the  New  Testament  with  the  OJd — it  will  be  hard  to 
demonstrate  from  Scripture  any  complex  system  either  of 
doctrine  or  practice  "  (p.  404),  It  would  be  unjust  to  Mr. 
Jowett  not  to  add,  that  in  several  passages  he  implies  a  belief 

*  He  has  discovered  a  discrepancy  in  the  accounts  of  Matthew  and  Luke 
as  to  the  original  place  of  abode  of  Joseph  and  Mary  (Matt,  ii.,  1,  22 ;  Luke 
ii.,  4). 


WHAT    SEEMS    TO    BE    ME.  .TOWETt's    IDEA.  209 

in  the  divinity,  and  divine  authority  of  Christ.     He  says,  that 
"  he  made  the  last  perfect  revelation  of  God  to  man  "  (p.  426) ; 
and  that  "  it  is  one  of  the  highest  tasks  in  which  the  labor  of  a 
life  can  be  spent,  to  bring  the  words  of  Christ  a  little  nearer 
to  the  heart  of  man  "   (p.  419).      But  he  also  says,  "  that  we 
cannot  readily  determine  how  much  of  the  words  of  our  Lord 
or  of  St.  Paul  is  to  be  attributed  to  Oriental  modes  of  speech." 
The  real  intent  and  inmost  sense  of  this  Essay  are  found 
in  the  general  position,  that  all  definite   creeds  are  nnsciip- 
tural;  that  Scripture  does  not  contain  a  body  of  doctrine,  but 
only  certain  general  sj^iritual  or  moral  truths  ;  that  "  the  dis- 
tinctions of  theology  are  beginning  to  fade  away  ; ''  that  "the 
universal  and  spiritual  aspects  of  Scripture  "  are  to  be  taught, 
"  to   the    exclusion   of   exaggerated    statements  of  doctrines 
which  seem  at  variance  with  morality."     The  woj-ld  has  been 
taught  no  real   ti-uth,  but  only  " scholastic   distinctions"  by 
the  successive  theological  systems.     *'  It  is,  pei'haps,  true  tliat 
the  decision  of  the  Council  of  Nicsea  was  the  gi-eatest  mis 
fortune  that  ever  befel  the  Christian  world  :  yet  a  different 
decision  would   have  been  a  greater   misfortune."     All  this 
development  has  really  taught  us  nothing  about  the  sense  of 
Scripture :  we  are  to  cut  down  the  tree,  its  branches,  and  its 
fj'uit,  and  refer  to  the  undeveh)ped  germ,  where  all  is  emljry- 
onic  and  indistinct.     But   why  do  this '':     AVould  the  world 
probably  not  be  likely  to  go  through  the  same  process  again  ? 
How  strange  this  succession  of  systems,  if  they  all  end  in 
naught.     How  contrary  to  the  idea  of  providence ;  how  in- 
consistent with  a  belief  in  the  presence  of  Christ  in  his  church 
by  his  Spirit!     After  eighteen  hundred  years,  all  we  can  do 
is  just  to  begin  again.     This  seems  to  be  Mr.  Jowett's  idea  ; 
but  with  his  view  of  Scripture  it  is  utterly  unpliilosophical  and 
impracticable.    On  his  fundamental  principle  of  a  developed 
and  progressive  revelation,  it  is  reactionary  to  the  last  degree. 
Neither  he  nor  any  one  else  can  thus  go  backward.    We  must 
go  forward  with  the  church,  or  outside  of  it.     We  must  press 
through  the  diversity  to  a  higher  unity,  which  shall  not  be 
any  less  positive,  any  less  doctrinal,  any  less  systematic  than 
14 


210  THE   NEW    LATITUDINAKIANS    OF    ENGLAND. 

what  has  gone  before ;  but  more  comprehensive,  more  com- 
plete, more  practical.  Faith  is  not  to  be  sacrificed  to  morals, 
nor  doctrine  to  life.  We  cannot  do  without  either.  Christ  is 
"  the  truth  "  as  well  as  "  the  life."  And  if  we  do  not  have  a 
rounded  and  definite  system  of  Christian  truth,  if  it  is  all  to 
be  merged  in  life  or  indefinite  spiritual  truths,  the  Christian 
church  will  inevitably  succumb  before  the  progress  of  phi- 
losophy. Systems,  in  the  long  run,  carry  the  day.  If  Chris- 
tianity cannot  be  presented  as  a  system  of  truth,  it  cannot  be 
so  presented  as  effectually  to  repel  the  profoundest  infidelity 
of  the  age.  And  this  Mr.  Jowett  does  not  seem  to  see,or  feel 
at  all.  And  yet  he  is  gliding  along  in  this  very  current.  All 
liis  arguments  and  reasonings  against  doctrines  and  against 
the  Scripture  are  based  on  the  principles  of  a  system  which 
controls  him  almost  unconsciously.  If  his  theories  are  good, 
they  prove  a  great  deal  more  tlian  he  wants  or  means  to  have 
them  prove.  lie  advocates  certain  pi'inciples  and  methods: 
and  it  will  not  be  long  before  some  one  will  be  found  to  draw 
the  legitimate  conclusions.  It  will  not  take  a  long  time  to 
see,  that  the  solution  of  the  problems  which  press  upon  the 
age  is  not  to  be  found  by  resolving  Christian  truth  into  a  halo 
or  a  fire-mist,  into  a  vague  spirituality  or  an  indefinite  life. 
For  then  it  is  confronted  with  two  compact  and  well-defined 
systems,  idealism  and  materialism  (positivism),  which  are 
fighting  with  conscious  aim  tlie  battle  for  supremacy,  and  by 
which  Christianity  will  be  resolved  into  figure  or  myth,  unless 
it  can  sliow  that  it  contains  the  truth  of  both  in  a  higlier,  a 
perfect,  an  absolute  form. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  these  Essays  and  Reviews,  avowing 
such  opinions,  and  based  on  such  principles,  should  have 
aroused  unusual  attention.  Their  general  reception  in  Eng- 
land is  what  might  have  been  expected  from  a  people  that 
honors  manliness,  as  one  of  the  cardinal  social  and  public 
virtues.  "With  scarcely  an  excep>tion,  the  leading  organs  of 
public  opinion  have  declared  against  the  inconsistency  of  such 
views  with  an  honest  adherence  to  the  Church  of  England. 
And  tlie  fact,  that  these  writers  seem  to  think  that  thev  can 


WHAT   THE    "  WESTMINSTER   REVIEW  "    SATS.  211 

still  remain  connected  with  this  church  shows,  that  their  prin- 
ciples of  criticism  may  have  reacted  upon  their  moral  sense. 
Such  methods  of  interpretation  as  are  here  applied  to  the 
Bible  and  the  Articles  will  unconsciously  enfeeble  the  judg- 
ment. And  if  these  principles  obtain  a  recognized  lodgment 
in  that  church,  its  destiny  is  easily  foreseen.  It  cannot  be- 
come "  multitudinist ;  "  it  will  only  hasten  the  inevitable  rup- 
ture of  church  and  state.  ISTor  do  we  believe  that  the  English 
people  will  be  seduced  from  its  loyalty  to  Christianity  by 
such  arguments  and  principles.  The  underlying  principles 
are  those  of  extreme  idealism,  the  logical  consequences  of 
which  are  found  in  the  pantheistic  theory  of  the  universe. 
But  the  English  mind  is  essentially  practical  and  historical. 
It  cannot  sublimate  facts  into  ideas :  it  cannot  thrive  on  ab- 
stract truth.  It  needs  only  to  see  the  real  basis  of  all  this 
criticism  and  speculation,  to  disown  its  validity.  For  the  same 
process  of  destruction  and  reconstruction  here  applied  to 
Christian  fact  and  doctrine  logically  leads  to  the  rejection  of 
all  that  is  supernatural,  to  the  denial  of  a  personal  God,  of 
immortality,  and  even  of  freedom  and  distinctive  moral  obli- 
gation. It  overturns  the  whole  received  system  of  Christian 
truth ;  the  shadowy  form  of  Christ,  which  is  still  reverenced 
by  some  of  these  writers,  only  needs  a  bolder  criticism,  on  the 
same  basis,  to  be  itself  resolved  into  a  mythical  personage. 
It  also  implies  and  involves  the  destruction  and  reconstruction 
of  the  state  as  well  as  of  the  church. 

The  article  in  the  Westminster  Heview  presses  the  matter 
to  such  conclusions.  It  does  indeed  represent  the  defection  as 
more  serious  and  entire  than  the  Essays  warrant.  It  does  not 
make  sufficient  allowance  for  the  possible  unconsciousness  of 
the  writers  as  to  the  character  and  results  of  their  principles  ; 
but  it  understands  the  bearings  of  these  principles  themselves, 
and  asks,  "  how  soon  will  the  Hebrew  Scriptures  take  their 
place  upon  the  book-shelf  of  the  learned,  beside  the  Arabian 
and  Sanskrit  poets  ? "  "  Of  what  use  can  it  be  to  talk  of 
articles  and  liturgy,  or  of  creeds,  to  a  Protestant  church  which 
has  been  robbed  of  the  written  word  from  which  they  are  all 


212  THE    NEW    LATITUDINARIANS    OF    ENGLAND. 

deduced  ? "  It  says  that, "  in  their  ordinary,  if  not  plain  sense, 
there  has  been  discarded  the  Word  of  God — the  Creation — 
the  Fall — the  Redemption — Justification,  Regeneration,  and 
Salvation — Miracles,  Inspiration,  Prophecy — Heaven  and 
Hell — Eternal  Punishment  and  a  Day  of  Judgment — Creeds, 
Liturgies,  and  Articles — the  truth  of  Jewish  History  and  of 
Gospel  nan-ative — a  sense  of  doubt  thrown  over  even  the  In- 
carnation, the  Resurrection,  and  Ascension — the  Divinity  of 
the  Second  Person,  and  the  personality  of  the  Third.  It  may 
be  tliat  this  is  a  true  view  of  Christianity,  but  we  insist  in  the 
name  of  common  sense  that  it  is  a  new  view."  It  correctly 
judges  that  the  "very  essence  of  the  discussion"  is  in  the 
question,  "not,  what  is  the  true  theory  of  revelation,  but  i^^Aa^ 
is  its  true  extent  ? "  Is  there  a  specific,  or  ovi[j  a  general, 
revelation  or  inspiration  ?  If  the  specific  be  denied,  the  argu- 
ment of  the  Westmhister  Review  is  conclusive ;  if  it  be 
maintained,  the  criticisms  of  the  Essays  are  undermined. 
"  They  are  our  friends,  who  have  introduced  this  doctrine  of 
ideology." 

Its  own  general  theory  is  given  by  the  'Westminster  Review 
in  "  the  conception  of  development  "  ;  this  idea,  it  says,  is 
what  has  led  these  authors  to  write  such  a  book,  and  this 
idea,  too,  it  asserts,  is  dissipating  all  past  faiths,  and  prepar- 
ing the  race  for  another  religion,  "  the  outgrowth  of  human 
thouglit."  "  Step  by  step  the  notion  of  evolution  by  law  is 
transforming  the  whole  field  of  our  knowledge  and  opinion. 
.  .  .  Two  coordinate  ideas  pervade  the  vision  of  every 
thinker,  physicist,  or  moralist,  philosopher  or  priest.  In  the 
physical  and  the  moral  world,  in  the  natural  and  human,  are 
ever  seen  two  forces — invariable  rule  and  continuous  ad- 
vance ;  law  and  action  ;  oixler  and  progress ;  these  two 
powers  working  harmoniously  together,  and  the  result  inevi- 
table sequence,  orderly  movement,  irresistible  growth."  It  is 
in  such  orderly  growth  that  "  we  find  the  one  grand  analogy 
through  the  whole  sphere  of  knowledge."  Yet,  at  the  same 
time,  "  no  rational  thinker  hopes  to  discover  more  than  some 
few  primary  axioms  of  law,  and  some  approximating  theory 


OBJECTION    TO    THE    "  WESTMINSTER    REVIEW  "    THEORY.        213 

of  growth.  Much  is  dark  and  contradictory."  But  still,  the 
law  remains,  and  sweeps  away  Christianity,  and  leaves  posi- 
tive science  alone  in  its  stead. 

This  is  the  theory  of  the  Westminster'  Review,  which  it 
would  substitute  for  the  theistic  and  Christian  idea  of  the 
imiverse.  And  we  urge  against  it  the  same  objection,  which 
it  so  strongly  ui'ires  against  the  Essays  and  He  views — it  is  not 
fairly  and  honestly  stated  in  its  fundamental  principle.  We 
suppose  that  fundamental  principle  to  be  really  Comte's 
theory  of  positivism,  viz. : — that  materialism  is  the  ultimate 
philosophical  system,  and  that  all  we  can  know  is  by  induc- 
tion from  external  phenomena.  This  is  the  only  theory, 
which  gives  consistency  to  the  positions  of  the  Keview. 
Why  was  it  not  distinctly  avowed  ?  Why  does  the  writer 
complain  of  the  Oxford  men  for  not  being  willing  to  state  all 
they  hold,  when  he  himself  shows  the  same  resei've?  If  the 
theory  is  not  atheistic,  it  is  pantheistic.  But  neither  atheism 
nor  pantheism  is  distinctly  proclaimed.  Wh}-  not  ?  Again, 
the  "  two  ideas  "of  "  order  ".  and  "  progress  "  explain  noth- 
ing, give  us  nothing  ultimate :  and  so  the  whole  theory  is  a 
form  without  substance.  Order  and  law  presuppose  some- 
thing, some  forms  of  being,  some  substances,  which  are  sub- 
ject to  this  order  and  these  laws.  "  Development  "  is  a  word 
without  contents — until  we  are  told  what  it  is  that  is  devel- 
oped ;  what  is  the  lavj  of  the  development ;  and  to  what  the 
development  leads  as  its  consummation.  And  yet  this  philo- 
sophical reviewer,  on  a  height  of  speculation  above  all  the 
thinkers  of  the  Christian  church,  presents  us  with  a  theory, 
which  is  to  supersede  all  the  past,  and  does  not  tell  us  a 
single  word  about  the  only  points  which  could  make  the 
theory  intelligible.  He  covers  up  all  the  difficulties  in  such 
words  as  "law,"  "order,"  "progress,"  "development." 
Manifestly,  lie  has  got  to  go  through  a  few  more  categories, 
before  he  can  pretend  to  having  a  system  of  ultimate  truth. 
What  is  it,  that  is  developed :  is  it  ultimately,  matter  or  spirit  ? 
What  are  its  laws :  are  they  those  of  the  spiritual  as  well  as 
of  the  material  world,  or  are  they  only  the  law  of  physical 


214  THE    NEW    LATITUDINAEIANS    OF    ENGLAND, 

sequences?  In  what  is  the  development  to  issue,  in  the  con- 
quest of  nature,  or  in  a  kingdom  of  God?  Whence  this 
development  ?  Is  its  origin  to  be  sought  in  the  blind  forces 
of  nature,  in  unconscious  spirit,  or  in  a  personal  God  ?  If  in 
either  of  the  former — can  he  tell  us,  how  the  rational  can  be 
produced  by  the  irrational,  wisdom  by  a  blind  force,  and  per- 
sonality by  unconscious  spirit?  And  if  the  origin  of  all  this 
development,  of  all  this  law  and  order,  is  to  be  sought  and 
found  only  and  ultimately  in  a  conscious,  personal  intelli- 
gence, then  all  of  the  reviewer's  arguments  against  super- 
naturalism,  revelation  and  inspiration,  are  worthless.  For  he 
who  believes  in  a  personal  God  cannot  doubt  the  possibility 
of  revelation,  inspiration,  incarnation,  and  redemption,  in 
their  specific  Christian  import :  he  cannot  believe  that  nat- 
ural law  is  all,  and  that  supernaturalism  is  a  fiction. 


THE 

THEOLOGICAL  SYSTEM  OF  EMMOiNS; 


Peofessor  Stuart,  of  Andover,  once  wrote  an  essay  in  tlie 
JBihlical  Repository  to  show  that  Arminius  was  not  an  Ar- 
minian.  And  eminent  diviiies  are  now  busy  with  the  inquiry 
whether  Dr.  Emmons  was  an  Emmonsite.  Did  he  really  hold 
to  those  definite  and  peculiar  views  which  ai-e  popularly  asso 
ciated  with  his  venerable  name  ?  Or,  are  his  sharp,  doctrinal 
statements  to  be  taken  in  a  feminine  rather  than  a  masculine 
sense?  to  be  called  metaphorical  and  not  literal,  popular  and 
not  exact.  Biblical  in  contrast  with  scientific?  Of  course,  all 
that  is  necessary  to  make  out  that  Dr.  Emmons  was  not  an 
Emmonsite,  is  to  interpret  his  definite  formulas  in  an  indefinite 
sense,  for  the  essence  of  his  system  is  in  its  definiteuess.  Keen 
logic  and  exegetical  skill  can  do  very  much  with  such  a  flexi- 
ble material  as  human  speech.  Words  are  susceptible  of  a 
great  variety  of  significations.  Interpret  all  the  leading  terms 
in  a  very  general  sense,  and  it  can  easily  be  shown,  that  the 
most  extreme  men,  when  rightly  understood,  really  mean  jusl, 
about  what  common  mortals  are  always  saying.  A  trifling 
difference  of  phraseology  is  all  that  is  left.  And  perhaps  this 
is  the  way  in  which  theological  controversy  is  to  come  to  an 
end,  viz.  by  interpreting  everybody  indefinitely.    If  the  whole 

*  From  the  American  Theological  Review  for  January,  1863. 

The  Works  op  Nathaniel  Emmons,  D.D.  Edited  by  Jacob  Ide,  D.D. 
Boston  :  Congregational  Board.     6  vols. 

Memoir  op  Nathaniel  Emmons;  with  SkctcJies  of  his  Friends  and 
Pupils.  By  Edwards  A.  Park.  Boston:  Congregational  Board  of  Publi- 
cation.    1861.     8vo,  pp.  468. 


216  THE   TIIEOLOOICAI-    SY8TKM    OV    KMMONS. 

region  is  levelled,  no  iTionntains  ;iro  left.  I>nt  wli.atevei'  may 
be  in  store  for  ns  in  the  indefinite  future,  it  i.s  lnu'd  to  over- 
coniG  our  pi-ejudiees  as  to  the  jiast,  and  still  more  difrundt  to 
revei'sc  the  vci(li(;t  of  history.  There  are,  to  bo  sure,  some 
signal  instances  of  a  revision  and  reversal  of  contenjjjorary 
judgments.  We  might  adnn't,  with  neg(!l,  that  Aristotle  was 
a  profounder  njetiiphysicijui  than  Plato;  wilh  Muller,  that 
Angustin(!  \w]d  to  hunum  freedom  in  its  j)n>r(iuiidest  sense  ; 
with  Cousin,  that  I'aseal  was  subject  to  the  torture  of  doubt; 
Mohanuned  may  not  have  been  a  mere  impostor,  nor  Orom- 
■vvcll  a.  fanatical  i'(!b(;l,  nor  Henry  Vlll.a  cruel  tyiant;  but 
still  w(!  nnist  confess  that  we  (ind  it  dillicult  to  believe,  that 
th(!  "  Wise  Teacher  and  Royal  Vreacl'er  of  New  Kngland" 
(as  the  Kev,  Thomas  WiUiams  calls  Emmons)  did  not  iiold 
certain  vei-y  distinct  and  even  pc(;uliar  views  upon  divine  efil- 
ciency,  human  exercises,  submission,  justification,  and  the 
grounds  of  the  rewards  of  Paradise.  x\nd  in  fact,  it  seems 
to  ns,  that  just  so  far  as  the  ])eculiai'ities  of  liis  system  arc  ex- 
plained away,  Emmons  himself  is  explained  away.  Another 
personage  takes  the  place  of  that  simple,  venerable,  and  i-igid 
form.  The  three-corneied  hat,  small  clothes,  and  bright  knee- 
buckles  are  replaced  by  a  loose  coat,  flowing  pantaloons,  and 
a  soft  and  easy  hat  of  modern  material  and  fabric.  Just  so 
far  as  he  is  thus  modernized,  he  forfeits  the  special  rank  which 
has  been  ascrihed  to  him  in  the  development  of  New  England, 
theology.  If  his  distinct  and  distinctive  propositions  are  re- 
duced to  the  terms  of  a  less  severe  system,  his  rei)utation  as  a 
clear  and  logical  thinker  also  suffers  detriment.  Eor  this 
emasculating  process  has  (^hief  respect  to  the  vital  points  of 
his  theory,  those  upon  which  he  thought  and  preached  most 
(constantly  and  nrgcntly.  His  "consistent  Calvinism  "  is  con- 
tained in  them.  IFd'c  he  claimed  to  be  Calvinistic,  and  not 
rnei'ely  "  ('ahinistiital  "  or  "Calvinisticalish.'"  It  has  been 
intimated,  that,  if  he  had  lived  now,  he  would  have  exj)i-e8sed 
himself  in  the  niodilicd  modes  of  his  apologists;  but  tho 
pro])er  business  of  an  cxjioundcr  of  Ennnons,  is  with 
]<]nnnons  as    he  was,    and    ni>t    with    r^nunoiis    as    lii^  mi^rht 


THE   MKMOIR    OF    EMMONS.  217 

have  been  uiulcr  the  h"ght  of  our  "  improved  ''  ethics  and 
theoloii^y. 

We  propose,  then,  in  vindicntion  aitd  ehieidatiou  of  his  reul 
system,  to  prestMit.  its  cliiu-iu^tiM-istie  features,  in  eomparisou 
and  contrast  with  tlie  earlier  and  later  formsof  New  En^-land 
tlieoh)n:y,  and  p;i,rtieidarlj  to  sliow  the  conditions  under  which 
alone  it  can  l)e  considered  as  a  self-consistent  scheme  of  di- 
vinity. Incidentally  it  may  appeur,  tluit  those  cannot  he  con- 
sidered as  valid  Kmnionsites,  who  disc-ird  the  radical  features 
of  his  system;  ;ind  that  those  who  relahi  oidy  his  "exercise" 
sclKMue,  and  who  di'iiy  Jiis  "  divine  ethcieimy  "  theory,  deny 
that  which  alone  made,  or  can  make,  the  exercise  scheme  con- 
sistent with  nvniiiiic  Calvinism.  It  is  reported  that  a  distin- 
f^niished  preacher  once  said  to  tiie  venerable  recluse,  "Well, 
Dr.  E.,  you  ami  I  iiirroo.,  that  all  sin  and  holiness  consist  in 
exercises."  "Yes,"  was  the  (piick  and  searchiu<r  resjionse, 
"but  we  differ  as  to  where  the  exercises  come  from." 

After  the  full  account  given  by  our  valued  contributor, 
Dr.  Pond,  in  the  last  number  of  this  Review,  wc  need  add 
but  a  few  woi'ds  about  Dr.  Emmons's  life  and  his  most  i'(>cent 
biogra,phy.  The  Memoir  of  Enunous,  by  Dr.  Park,  exhausts 
the  subject,  leaving  nothing  to  be  desired  in  the  general  por- 
traiture of  the  man,  his  ways  and  surroinidings.  It  is  the 
most  entertaining,  ingenious  and  finished  piece  of  ecclesiasti- 
cal biography  which  New  England  has  as  yet  sent  forth  in 
honor  of  her  religions  patriarchs.  Minnie  divisions  and  sub- 
divisions, sections  and  subsections,  and  even  the  aid  of  nund)ers 
and  letters,  give  an  almost  mathematical  accuracty  to  the  ar- 
rangement of  the  l)Ook,  as  if  it  were  written  in  I  he,  demonstra- 
tive method.  The  details  are  elaboj-ated  with  niciity;  the 
lights  and  shades  are  handled  with  consummate  skill ;  the 
general  as  well  as  tlu;  jiarticulai-  r<dations  of  llic  theologian 
and  his  theology  are  unfolded  a,ud  set  in  their  j)la,ce.  CareCnl 
logic  aiul  practised  ci'iticism  wat(th  over  aJl  the  details,  and  lit 
each  part  of  the  nai'i-ative  into  its  appointed  places  If  the 
object  were  to  represent  the  Fraid<lin  divine,  with  ne(!(ied 
explanations,  as  being  upon  the  whole  the  best  type  of  New 


218  THE    THEOLOGICAL    SYSTEM    OF    EMMONS. 

England  theology,  polity,  ethics,  and  practical  divinity — that 
object  could  not  have  been  more  felicitously  and  acutely  at- 
tempted. His  chief  biographer  has  certainly  failed  in  his 
main  purpose,  if  the  reader  is  not  convinced  tliat  Dr.  Emmons 
is  the  Coryphaeus  of  modern  Congregationalism,  as  a  system 
of  independency  in  polity,  and  as  a  theory  of  exercises  in 
ethics.  The  resources  of  English  adjectives  are  put  to  a  se- 
vere test  in  the  contrasted  descriptions,  and  varied  encomiums, 
of  his  multiform  traits  of  character.  His  idiosyncrasies  and 
his  large  humanity,  his  habits  as  a  pastor  and  student,  his  pe- 
culiarities of  dress,  manner,  and  conversation,  his  theological 
system  in  all  its  ramifications,  and  his  style  and  method  as  a 
cogent  preacher  of  divine  truth,  are  set  forth  in  such  an  at- 
tractive exposition,  that  even  those  who  dissent  most  strongly 
from  his  prominent  speculations  must  still  reverence  and  ad- 
mire and  love  the  man.  And  even  though  it  may  not  be  made 
evident  that  he  is  a  better  and  truer  representative  of  the  sub- 
stantial oi'thodoxy  of  New  England,  than  is  Edwards,  or  Bel- 
lamy, or  Smalley,  or  Dwight,  or  Hopkins,  or  Woods  ;  all  can- 
did readers  will  confess,  that  in  clearness  of  statement,  consis- 
tency of  logic,  tenacity  of  phraseology,  and  especially  in  sharp 
■and  curt  sayings,  he  is  surpassed  by  none  of  his  peers.  He 
defined  more  sharply,  and  stuck  to  his  definitions  better,  than 
any  preceding  !New  England  divine.  Though  he  wrote  no 
formal  body  of  divinity,  but  only  sermons  or  essays  in  the 
homiletic  form,  he  undoubtedly  had  a  system  thoroughly 
thought  out,  and  carefully  stated  to  obviate  objections. 
Herein  was  his  superiority ;  and  it  is  of  this  very  superiority 
that  he  is  robbed,  when  he  is  interpreted  as  speaking  more 
concisely  than  precisely,  more  intensely  than  plainly,  more 
nervously  than  perspicuously,  on  the  distinguishing  features  of 
his  scheme.  And  to  subject  him  to  the  metaphorical  method 
of  interpretation  is  peculiarly  inapt,  for  he  himself  is  the  most 
literal  of  our  divines  ;  his  main  positions  are  put  as  tight  and 
tough,  as  clear  and  clean,  as  language  can.  make  them.  He 
interprets  everybody  else  in  the  most  literal  and  obvious 
sense ;  he  never  allegorizes.     Scripture  he  explains  with  the 


Emmons's  theological  and  ethical  position.         219 

simplicity  of  a  child,  and  talks  of  the  most  supernatural 
themes  as  other  people  talk  about  men,  and  trees,'  and  daily 
events.  He  holds  to  verbal  inspiration,  and  literal  interpre- 
tation, where  others  are  staggered,  or  take  refuge  in  a  double 
sense.  But  he  knew  nothing  about  a  double  sense.  He  tried 
to  say  just  what  he  meant ;  and  if  he  had  meant  to  say  what 
his  interpreters  allege,  he  undoubtedly  would  and  could  have 
used  the  very  words  which  they  substitute  for  his  strict  for- 
mulas. 

Dr.  Emmons  was  the  keenest  of  the  old  school  divines  of 
ISTew  England,  and  in  some  points  the  forerunner  of  its  new 
school.  He  believed  in  the  divinity  of  Christ,  the  Incarna- 
tion, and  the  Trinity — rejecting,  however,  in  opposition  to 
Hopkins,  the  eternal  generation  of  the  Son,  and  even  stigma- 
tizhig  it  as  "eternal  nonsense."  He  carried  divine  sove- 
reignty to  its  acme,  while  he  maintained  that  man  has  natural 
ability  to  frustrate  the  divine  decrees.  He  pressed  the  divine 
efficiency  to  an  extreme  which  few  Calvinists  have  dared  to 
do,  making  it  extend,  as  creative,  to  all  events  and  all  the 
acts  of  the  creature,  sin  not  excepted ;  and  at  the  same  time 
he  held  to  the  entire  freedom  and  responsibility  of  the  creature. 
So  strictly  did  he  believe  that  the  glory  of  God  is  the  great 
end  of  creation,  that  he  also  asserted  tliat  sin  is  necessary  to 
the  greatest  good,  and  that  a  willingness  to  be  lost  is  the  chief 
test  of  regeneration.  His  ethical  theory  enforced  an  impar- 
tial and  disinterested  benevolence  as  the  essence  of  true  vir- 
tue—a benevolence  so  comprehensive  as  to  include  all  the 
good  of  all  beings,  and  so  disinterested  that  all  self-love,  if 
not  repudiated,  is  merged  in  this  universal  good- will.  Of  the 
"  iive  points  "  of  the  Calvinistic  system,  excepting  that  of  a 
limited  atonement,  he  was  so  constant  an  advocate,  that  they 
formed  the  staple  of  his  Sunday  afternoon  inferences  from 
his  Sunday  morning's  discourses.  The  decrees  he  declared 
to  be  the  fundamental  doctrine  of  "  the  Gosj>el ;  "  he  proved, 
that  "  it  is  absolutely  necessary  to  approve  of  the  doctrine  of 
reprobation,  in  order  to  be  saved  "  (ii.  402).  He  held  that 
depravity,  in  consequence  of  Adam's  sin,  is  universal  and 


220  THE    THEOLOGICAL    SYSTEM    OF    EMMONS. 

total ;  that  the  Holy  Ghost  literally  creates  in  tlie  renewed  a 
new  heart  and  a  right  spirit ;  and  that  those  thus  renewed 
will  persevere  to  the  end,  obtaining,  however,  the  blessedness 
of  heaven  as  a  reward  of  their  obedience,  and  not  of  Christ's. 
And  thus  does  Emmons  hold,  as  no  one  ever  did  either 
before  or  since,  some  of  the  extreme  j30sitions  of  both  old 
school  and  new  school.  He  is  a  snpralapsarian  Calvinist  in 
all  that  concerns  God,  and  the  boldest  of  theorists  in  all  that 
concerns  human  activity,  carrying  ethics  and  anthropology 
to  the  most  startling  results.  He  said  of  himself,  at  the  age 
of  ninety-three  :  "  I  go  with  the  old  school  of  New  England 
divines  half  way,  and  then  turn  round  and  oppose  them  with 
all  my  might.  I  go  with  the  new  school  half  way,  and  then 
turn  round  and  oppose  them  with  all  my  might." 

The  essential  points  of  his  system  are  contained  in  three 
words — God,  efficiency,  exercises.  The  formula  of  his  dis- 
tinct and  comprehensive  scheme  may,  perhaps,  be  said  to  be 
this — God,  hy  direct  efficiency,  produces  all  events  and  exer- 
cises for  his  man  glory.  Efficient  and  final  causes  are  the 
metaphysical  factors  of  his  tlieory  ;  the  material  and  foruaal 
causes  (as  Aristotle  would  call  them)  he  neglects  or  denies. 
On  the  one  hand  is  an  absolute  decree,  on  the  other  hand  are 
events  and  volitions  ;  and  the  nexus  between  them  is  the  im- 
mediate agency  of  God.  And  yet  he  says  volitions  are  free, 
because  God  makes  them  free — it  is  their  nature  to  be  free ; 
and  man  is  responsible  for  them  because  they  are  his.  Each 
volition  is  as  distinct  as  an  atom  ;  it  is,  and  must  be,  either 
Avholly  holy  or  wholly  sinful;  and  as  holy  or  sinful,  it  is 
inherently  worthy  of  reward  or  penalty.  The  moral  and  per- 
sonal being  of  every  child  of  Adam,  begins  with  these  voli- 
tions— and,  in  fact,  all  that  we  know  or  can  conceive  about 
the  soul,  is  that  it  is  identical  with  its  exercises.  Some  of 
the  theological  bearings  and  consequences  of  these  extraor- 
dinary positions  will  come  out  in  the  sequel;  but  no  one  read 
in  the  history  of  theology  can  fail  to  recognize  tlieir  peculiar 
<-.haracter  and  scope.  They  indicate  a  mind  of  umisual  keen- 
ness and  penetration,  subtle   and  scholastic,  clear  and   con- 


ElVEVIONS    EVERY    WHIT    A    THEOLOGIAN.  221 

secutive.     Emmons  is,  in  fact,  the  schoolman  of  New  Enii;- 
land  divinity  ;  like  the  scholastics  in    logical    acumen    and 
fearless  qnestionings ;  like  them,  too,  in  shrinking  from  no 
possible  results  of  his  logic ;  like  them,  in  neglecting  induc- 
tion, and  making  deduction  the  royal  road  to  truth  ;  unlike 
them  in  his  strong  moral  convictions  and  practical  vigor  of 
statement  and  appeal ;  and  yet,  again,  like  some  of  them — 
most  resembling  John  Scotus  Erigena,  in  the  universality  of 
his  view  of  God's  agency,  bordering  sometimes  on   conse- 
quences akin  to  pantheism — yet  not  pantheistic,  for  no  theo- 
logian ever  had  a  deei3er  sense  of  God's  personal  being  and 
will,  and  of  his  entire  distinction  from  the  creature ;  no  theo- 
logian ever  pressed  the  idea  of  creation  from  nothing  more 
shai-ply  and  even  exclusively.     Some  of  the  recent  attempts 
at  elucidating  his  theology  do  not  adequately  emphasize  these 
bolder  and  profounder  aspects  of  his  theory  ;  his  apologists 
seem  anxious  to  smooth  them  over,  to  palliate  them,  to  adapt 
them  to  the  tastes  of  an  enfeebled  divinity,  to  a  popular 
craving  for  the  humanities  and  ethics — as  if  the  substance  of 
theology  were  to  be  found  in  moral  philosophy,  its  adjuncts 
and   inferences.     But  Emmons  himself  had  no  such  weak- 
nesses.    He  was   every  whit  a    theologian ;  and    his    moi-al 
philosophy  and  psychology  (the  latter  ratlier  barren  at  the 
best)  were  the  handmaids  and  servitors  of  his  lordly  divinity. 
Such   expounders  hardly  do  full  justice  to  the  "grand  old 
man  ;"  they  have  not  caught  the  inmost  spirit  and  vital  sense 
of  his  system. 

The  position  of  Dr.  Emmons  in  the  theological  systems 
of  New  England  is  worthy  of  careful  consideration.  Isolated 
and  peculiar*  as  he  seems  to  be,  his  scheme  is  vitally  inter- 
woven with  antecedent  theories,  and  it  has  effected  subsequent 

*  The  late  Dr.  Woods,  of  Andover,  in  his  essay  on  the  The  jlogj-  of  the 
Puritans  (p.  13)  says :  "  Dr.  Emmons  considered  himself  as  an  innovator  on 
the  settled  theology  of  New  England.  He  professedly  dissented  from  several 
of  the  doctrines  contained  in  the  Catechism,  and  Confession  of  Faith,  and 
in  the  writings  of  Edwards.  He  often  mentioned  the  fact,  that  but  a  few, 
comparatively,  embraced  his  peculiar  views.  He  hoped  it  would  not  always 
be  so." 


^^-^  THE    THEOLOGICAL    SYSTEM    OF    E:MM0NS. 

speculations.  Intimate  relations  of  affiliation  or  contrast  con- 
nect him  witli  the  older  Calvinism,  witli  the  previons  divines 
of  the  Edwardean  school,  and  with  the  subsequent  forms  of 
]N"ew  England  divinity.  He  agreed  with  the  scliool  of  Ed- 
Avards  in  rejecting  tlie  direct  imputation  of  Adam's  sin,  but 
he  advanced  beyond  most  of  his  predecessors  in  virtually  re- 
solving all  imputation  into  an  abstract  divine  constitution — a 
matter  of  sovereignty  rather  than  a  moral  procedure.  The 
"  covenants  "  followed  of  course  in  the  same  line.  He  sym- 
bolized with  the  younger  Edwards  and  Hopkins,  and  opposed 
the  older  Calvinism,  as  to  the  extent  of  the  atonement — pro- 
claiming it  to  be  universal  in  its  provisions,  and  recognizing 
in  it  a  satisfaction  to  the  general  justice  of  God  ;  but  he  is 
far  from  resolving  it  into  a  means  of  moral  impression — for  he 
says  that  it  was  "necessary  entirely  on  God's  account"  ;  and 
that  "  nothing  can  make  atonement  for  man's  sins,  wliich  does 
not  express  the  same  vindictive  justice  of  God,  which  he  ex- 
presses in  the  penalty  of  the  law."  In  contrast,  however,  with 
both  Edwards  and  Hopkins,  lie  denied  Christ's  active  obedi- 
ence in  relation  to  our  justification,  and  identified  justification 
with  pardon.  In  opposition  to  the  whole  consensus  of  Cal- 
vinism, and  to  Edwards,  Bellamy  and  Smalley,  and  following 
out  sundry  hints  and  sjDeculationsof  Hopkins,  Emmons  denied 
the  received  doctrine  of  original  sin,  and  reduced  all  sin  to 
sinning — making,  however,  the  first  sin  of  each  descendant 
of  Adam  to  be  coeval  with  the  existence  of  his  soul,  and  to 
be  a  consequence  of  the  Adamic  transgression.  Taking  up 
the  hypothesis  of  Edwards  and  West  as  to  identity  and  the 
divine  causality,  (viz.,  that  the  identity  of  any  created  exist- 
ence .  consists  merely  in  the  fact  that  a  divine  constitution 
makes  it  to  be  the  same  at  each  successive  moment) — he  was 
led  to  the  inference,  that  the  divine  power,  by  an  immediate 
agency,  actually  bi'ings  into  being  every  event  and  every 
exercise,  each  distinctly  by  itself — the  most  thorough-going 
atomism,  extended  to  mind  as  well  as  matter,  surpassing  even 
the  idealism  of  Berkeley,*  to  wliich  it  is  near  akin.  In  dis- 
*  Professor  Pauk,  in  bis  Memoir  of  Emmons,  "  recalls  "  the  statement  he 


EJOIONS'S    THEORY    OF    VIRTUE.  223 

Linction,  too,  from  the  older  Calvinism,  and  in  harmony  with 
Edwards,  the  Franklin  divine  defined  virtue  as  the  love  of 
being ;  following  Hopkins,  he  called  it  a  disinterested  love  ; 
combining  it  with  tlie  doctrine  of  submission  to  the  divine 
will,  he  drew  the  inference,  which  he  supposed  Paul  enforced, 
when  he  declared  himself  willing  to  be  accursed  from  Christ, 
for  the  sake  of  his  brethren.  No  mediaeval  mystic,  no  French 
quietest,  dared  to  make  a  willingness  to  suffer  the  tortures  of 
the  lost  the  condition  of  obtaining  the  bliss  of  the  redeemed. 
And  this  profound  mysticism  was  preached  in  the  baldest 
prose,  and  proved  by  the  keenest  logic,  and  inculcated  upon 
men  and  women  in  the  church  on  Sunday,  and  in  the  confer- 
ence meetings  on  other  days  of  the  week  ;  and  many,  many  a 
New  England  soul,  through  this  torture  has  found  its  ecstasy. 
And  this  is  the  ethical  theory  which  some  Calvinists  even  now 
do  not  scruple  to  call — utilitaiianism  !  *     Yet,  again,  opposing 

had  previously  made,  that  Emmons  was  a  Berkeleian,  having'  since  heard, 
that  Emmons  had  said  he  thought  he  could  refute  Berkeley's  arguments. 
Emmons,  perhaps,  did  not  hold,  that  ideas  are  all ;  but  the  fundamental 
character  of  his  system  is  eminently  Berkeleian — the  same  view  of  God  as  im- 
mediately producing  all  that  is  external — the  same  individualism — the  same 
nominalism — the  same  denial  of  the  possibility  of  finding  or  conceiving  any 
essence  or  substance,  besides  and  beyond  the  qualities  and  activities  of  ob- 
jects, etc.  In  what  the  Germans  would  call  their  theory  of  the  universe, 
both  Emmons  and  Berkeley  were  of  the  same  mind. 

*  jS'o  philosopher  ever  insisted  more  distinctly  than  Emmons  upon  the 
"essential  and  immutable  distinction  between  right  and  wrong"  (see  his 
Sermon,  thus  entitled).  "  As  virtue  and  vice,  therefore,  take  their  origin 
from  the  nature  of  things,  so  the  diilerence  between  moral  good  and  moral 
evil  is  as  immutable  as  the  nature  of  things,  from  which  it  results."  "  The 
difference  between  virtue  and  vice  does  not  depend  upon  the  ^f^7/ of  God. 
because  his  will  cannot  make  nor  destroy  this  immutable  difference.  And 
it  is  no  more  to  the  honor  of  God  to  suppose  that  he  cannot,  than  that  he 
can,  perform  impossibilities."  In  another  sermon  on  the  Moral  Rectitude 
of  God,  he  presents  the  whole  matter  in  a  most  felicitous  style.  "It  is 
the  moral  nature  of  benevolence,  that  renders  it  morallij  excellent ;  and  it 
is  the  natural  tendency  of  benevolence  to  promote  happiness,  that  renders  it 
naturally  excellent.  It  is  the  m.ora'  nature  of  selfishness  that  renders  it 
moi'aUy  evil.  And  it  is  its  natural  tendency  to  promote  misery,  that  renders 
it  naturally  evil.  The  nature  of  benevolence  is  one  thing,  and  its  tendency 
is  another.     The  nature  of  selfishness  is  one  thing,  audits  tendency  a.noihQx. 


224  THE    THEOLOGICAL    SYSTEM    OF    EMMONS. 

the  older  Calviinsin,  and  in  conjunction  witli  the  Hopkinsians, 
he  preached  natural  ability  and  the  necessity  of  immediate 
repentance,  in  deference  to  his  exercise  theory,  sharpenin-^ 
the  statements  on  both  points;  still,  however,  fighting  the 
Arminian  self-determination,  and  inculcatino;  the  strict 
irresistibility  of  divine  grace.  In  the  theodicy,  Calvinism  has 
generally  been  content  with  leaving  the  ultimate  ground  of  the 
divine  permission  of  sin  an  inscrutable  mystery  ;  but  this  did 
not  satisfy  the  restless  questionings  of  the  school  of  Edwards, 
in  their  endeavors  to  fathom  the  ways  of  God.  Dr.  West,  of 
Stockbridge,  declared  that  sin  was  a  necessary  means  of  the 
greatest  good.  Dr.  Hopkins  wrote  a  treatise  entitled.  Sin, 
through  the  Divine  Interposition  an  Advantage  to  the  Uni- 
verse (that  is,  as  overruled,  and  not  in  its  own  nature).  And 
Emmons,  bolder  than  the  rest,  not  only,  with  Hopkins,  denied 
the  palliative  of  "permission,"  to  which  most  Calvinists  clung, 
but  also  made  God  the  efficient  cause  of  sin,  intrepidly 
asserting,  "  that  there  was  the  same  klnd^  if  not  the  same 
degree  of  necessity  in  the  divine  mind,  to  create  sinful,  as  to 
create  holy  beings,"  viz.,  that  he  might  dis2:>lay  his  justice  and 
his  grace.  And  thus  he  carried  out  to  its  sharpest  extreme, 
in  prosaic  and  logical  terms,  what  even  Augustine  and  Calvin 
veiled  in  the  language  of  feeling  and  of  faith  : 

"  O  felix  culpa,  quas  talem  et  tantuin 
Meruit  habere  Redemptorem  !  " 

These  general  statements  as  to  the  historical  relations  of 
Emmons,  make  it  evident  that  he  gathered  together,  and 
sharpened  out,  several  scattered  theories  of  New  England  di- 
vines on  special  and   important   points,  in  winch  they  some- 

The  nature  of  benevolence  is  immutable,  and  it  cannot  be  altered  by  the 
Deity.  The  nature  of  selfishness  is  immutable.,  and  cannot  be  altered  by 
the  Deity.  But  the  tendency  of  benevolence,  and  the  tendency  of  selfishness 
may  be  altered."  He  even  g-oes  so  far  as  to  say,  '"If  it  were  supposab'e 
that  benevolence  should  have  a  natural  tendency  to  promote  misery,  still  it 
would  be  mondly  excellent  in  its  own  nature.  Or  if  it  were  supposable  that 
selfishness  should  have  a  natural  tendency  to  T^xom.ote  happiness,  stQl  it  would 
be  in  its  own  luiture,  morally  evil.'" 


EELATION   OF    EMMONS    TO    THE    OLDER   CxVLVINISM.  225 

what  deviated  from  the  Calvinistic  tradition,  while,  at  the 
same  time,  he  pressed  certain  fundamental  articles  of  the 
Reformed  theology,  severed  from  their  organic  relations  with 
the  whole  system,  to  logical  results,  from  which  even  the 
strictest  Presbyterians  recoiled.  He  himself  says  that  he 
early  threw  away  his  "  crutches,"  and  took  to  making  "  joints.''' 
The  "  crutches  "  were  what  he  also  calls  the  "  wens  and  pro- 
tuberances" of  Calvinism — e.  g.  original  sin,  imputation, 
inability,  limited  atonement,  etc.  The  '"joints  "  consisted  in 
dovetailing  what  remained  of  Calvinism  into  the  New  Eng- 
land speculations  about  vii-tue,  the  will,  ability,  the  atone- 
ment, etc.  His  Calvinism  was  concentrated  into  the  doctrine 
of  "divine  efficiency  ;  "  the  new  elements  were,  for  the  most 
part,  brought  under  the  word  '"exercises."  To  "joint"  this 
"  efficiency  "  and  these  "  exercises  "  was  the  prol)lem.  The 
solution  was  in  the  position  that  the  divine  efficiency  creates 
the  exercises.  That  is — the  divine  efficiency  is  the  construc- 
tive idea,  and  the  theory  of  exercises  is  the  regulative  factor 
of  the  distinctive  theology  of  Ennnons. 

JBefore  showing  how  the  two  were  conjoined,  it  may  be  well 
to  add  a  word  upon  the  relation  of  Emmons  to  the  older  Cal- 
vinism ;  his  relation  to  later  theories  will  best  come  up  by  and 
by.  Calvinism,  in  its  historical  growth,  has  assumed  a  vari- 
ety of  forms  ;  it  has  been  prolific  in  systems.  Running  through 
them  all  is  the  theory  of  the  divine  sovereignty,  or  predesti- 
nation, viz.,  that  the  will  of  God  is  the  source  and  end  of  all 
things.  The  earlier  Calvinism  (and  Luther,  too)  was  j)ene- 
trated  Avith  this  idea.  But  it  was  soon  modified  by  the  the- 
ology of  the  covenants,  which  relieved  the  dogma  of  the 
absolute  decree,  and  introduced  historical  transactions  and 
elements.  The  plan  of  God  (this  is  what  the  theory  of  the 
covenants,  in  substance,  said)  is  not  one  of  arbitrary  will  and 
sovereignty,  it  rather  involves,  in  its  essential  idea,  moral  com- 
pacts on  the  basis  of  right  and  rights.  The  Confession  and 
Catechisms  of  the  AYestminster  Assembly  contain  both 
these  elements — the  sovereignty  and  the  covenants.  Emmons 
discarded  the  covenants,  and  constructed  his  system  on  the 
15 


226  THE    THEOLOGICAL    SYSTEM    OF    EMMONS. 

basis  of  the  divine  will.  Hence  he  is  called  a  hyper-Calviinst. 
The  Calvinism,  too,  of  this  country  and  of  Scotland,  has  been 
infralapsarian  ;  Emmons  was  a  supralapsarian — -the  most  con- 
sistent form  of  the  unrelieved  doctrine  of  divine  sovereignty. 
And  so  the  Pi-esbvterians,  as  a  general  rule,  heartily  opposed 
Emmons,  both  as  a  h3'per-Calvinist  and  as  an  Arminian  ;  the 
former  in  respect  to  sovereignty,  the  latter  in  respect  to  sin, 
ability,  the  atonement,  and  related  points.  No  thoi-ough- 
going  Presbyterian  was  ever  willing  to  say,  that  God  creates 
sinful  exercises  ;  that  sin  is  the  necessar}'  means  of  the  great- 
est good ;  that  all  sin  and  holiness  consist  in  exercises ;  that 
man  lias  the  natural  ability  to  frustrate  the  divine  decrees ;  and 
that  justification  means  only  pardon.  And,  whether  from 
a  deficiency  in  logic  or  piety,  or  for  some  other  reason,  none 
of  them  were  ever  willing  to  be — "  lost,"  even  for  the  glory 
of  God. 

The  constructive  idea  of  the  system  of  Emmons  is  that  of 
the  Divine  Efficiency.  Predestination  and  decrees  are  his 
strong  points.  Professor  Park,  in  his  analytic  survey  of  the 
"  Formative  Principles "  of  this  theology,  introduces  the 
"  Loveliness  of  God,"  as  the  first  characteristic  of  the  system. 
But  such  is  not  the  general  and  the  most  obvious  impi-ession 
made  by  his  wn-itings.  The  "supremacy"  of  God,  which  his 
biographer  states  as  the  second  characteristic,  would  be  firs-t 
suggested  to  most  minds.  We  are  also  told,  under  another 
distinct  head,  that  his  system  illustrates  "the  Duty  of  Union 
with  God,"  and  that  this  is,  in  fact,  "■  the  jjrincipium^''  of  his 
teachings;  but  this  idea  of  union  is  quite  incidental  to  the 
main  scope  of  his  theorizings,  and  not  at  all  a  capital  charac- 
teristic. The  absolute,  supreme,  ii-resistible,  all-embracing, 
all-producing,  all-sustaining  energy  of  the  divine  will,  making 
every  event  and  act  march  to  the  music  of  the  divine  glory,  is 
unquestionaldy  the  predominant  idea  of  this  most  "  consistent" 
of  Calvinists.  Tlic  emphasis  is  always  upon  power,  and  divine 
power ;  God  orders  all  things  after  the  counsel  of  his  own 
will,  for  his  own  glory.  And  the  peculiarity  of  his  theory  is 
in  so  far  identifying  the  divine  decrees  and  the  divine  agency, 


EMMONs's    THEORY    OF    THE   DIVINE   AGENCY.  227 

as  to  assert  that  what  God  decrees,  he  does.  The  divine 
agency  is  always  and  ever  an  immediate,  productive,  creative 
energy.  Preservation  is  a  continual  creation.  The  agency 
of  God,  he  says,  consists  "  in  nothing  before  his  choice,  nor 
after  his  clioice,  nor  beside  his  choice.  His  willing  or  choos- 
ing a  thing  to  exist  is  all  that  he  does  in  causing  it  to  exist  " 
(Works,  iv.,  370).  He  is  the  "  universal  cause."  "  It  is  his 
agenc}^  and  nothing  but  his  agency,  that  makes  men  act 
and  prevents  them  from  acting"  (iv.,  272).  "lie  exerts  his 
agency  in  producing  all  the  free  and  voluntary  exercises  of 
every  moral  agent,  as  constantly  and  fully  as  in  preserving^ 
and  supporting  his  existence  "  (iv.,  383).  All  men's  "  motions, 
exercises  or  actions  must  proceed  from  a  divine  efficiency  " 
(iv.,  366).  "  Mind,''  he  says,  "  cannot  act  any  more  than  mat- 
ter can  move  without  a  divine  agency."  In  short,  the  divine 
agency  is  simply  the  divine  creative  energy,  at  work  in  all 
events  and  all  actions.  In  harmony  with  this  view,  the  di- 
vine providence  and  government  are  represented  as  only  the 
immediate  agency  of  God  producing  whatsoever  he  will  for 
his  own  glory.  God,  he  says,  "governs  the  moral  as  well  as 
the  natural  world,  and  both  by  a  positive  agency,  and  not  a 
bare  permission."  Second  causes  have  no  efficiency  in  them- 
selves. 

This,  now,  is  a  very  simple  and  a  very  comprehensive 
tlieury.  It  is  also  a  very  mechanical  and  arbitrary  hypothe- 
sis. It  is  taken  from  the  sphere  of  the  natural  forces,  and 
transferred  without  qualification  to  the  sphei'e  of  providence. 
Efficient  and  final  causes  are  the  working  factors  ;  and  the 
efficient  produces  the  final  cause.  The  fundamental  concep- 
tion is  that  of  simple  causative  energy  or  force,  nniversalized. 
It  rests  on  the  thesis,  that  the  laws  of  nature  (extended  by 
Emmons  to  the  moral  world)  are  solely  modes  of  the  divine 
operation.  How  Emmons  handles  the  matter  is  strikingly 
seen  in  a  "  familiar  conversation,"  reported  by  his  biogra- 
pher: "'Do  you  believe,'  says  Emmons,  'that  God  is  the 
efficient  cause  of  sin  ? '  '  Ko.'  '  Do  you  believe  that  sin 
takes  place  according  to  the  usual  laws  of  nature  ? '     '  Yes.' 


22S  THE    THEOLOGICAL    SYSTEM    OF    EMMONS. 

'What  are  the  laws  of  nature,  according  to  Newton?' 
'  They  are  the  established  modes  of  the  divine  operation,' 
'  Do  you  approve  of  that  definition  ? '  '  Yes.'  '  Put  those 
things  together.'"  Now  all  this  may  be  very  ingenious;  and 
there  are  only  two  objections  to  it.  One  objection  is,  that 
the  laws  of  nature  are  not  merely  tlie  established  modes  of 
the  diN'ine  agency  ;  and  the  other  objection  is,  that  sin  cannot 
be  said  to  take  place  simply  according  to  "  the  usual  laws  of 
nature."  If  it  did,  sin  would  be  as  much  a  law  of  nature 
as  is  gravitation.  The  theory — supernatural  and  theological 
as  it  undoubtedly  is — is  strongly  naturalistic  in  its  prime  pos- 
tulate. And  the  progress  of  the  natural  sciences,  recognizing 
in  nature  living,  organizing  principles,  as  well  as  mere  dyna- 
mic agencies  from  witliout,  has  dissolved  the  spell  of  this 
Newtonian  formula,  once  so  highly  prized.  Even  as  a  theory 
of  nature  it  is  imperfect. 

The  biographer  of  Emmons  has  another  way  of  explaining 
the  theory  of  efficiency.  Conceding  (p.  387)  that  Emmons 
says  that  "  God  is  the  only  efficient  cause  ;  "  and  that  he  also 
says,  that  "  man  is  not  the  efficient  cause  "  of  his  own  acts  ; 
he  meets  the  difficulty  by  the  assurance,  that  "efficiency" 
has  an  entirely  different  sense  in  the  two  cases.  According 
to  this  explanation,  it  seems,  that  when  this  "  exact  "  divine 
says  that  "  God  is  the  only  efficient  cause,"  he  means  by 
"  efficient,"  "  indci^endent  /  "  and  when  he  says,  that  "  man 
is  not  the  efficient  cause  "  of  his  choices,  he  means  by  the 
same  word,  "  efficient,"  something  totally  different,  viz, : 
''^producing  a  volition  hy previously  choosing  to  produce  it.''''  * 
We  had  no  idea  that  the  word  "  efficient  "  had  sucli  a  variety 
of  significations  ;  and  tlie  curiosity  of  the  matter  is,  that  in 
neither  of  these  cases  (the  test  cases  of  the  system)  does 

*  "  The  objector  asks  :  Does  not  Emmons  affirm  that  man  is  not  the  effi- 
cient cause  of  his  own  choices  ?  He  does,  sometimes ;  but  then  he  means 
by  efficient  cause,  that  agent  who  produces  a  volition  by  previously  choosing 
to  produce  it."  "  But,  rejoins  the  critic  :  Does  not  Emmons  affirm  or  im- 
l)ly  that  God  is  the  only  efficient  cause  in  the  universe  ?  He  does.  But 
here  he  uses  the  word  ejjicieiit  as  denoting  indepeiule/U.''^     (Memoir,  p.  387.) 


WHAT   EMMONS    MEANT   BY   DIVINE    EFFICIENCY,  229 

"  efficient  "  mean  anything  like  what  it  is  usually  supposed 
to  mean.  In  the  one  case  it  means  ''  independent,"  but  that 
does  not  necessarily  involve  the  idea  of  j^ower ;  in  the  other 
case  it  means  an  absurdity,  a  merely  jBctitious  power.  This 
explanation  is  doubtless  w^ell  meant ;  but,  as  the  careful  and 
precise  Emmons  would  say,  it  is  "  clogged  with  gravelling 
difficulties ;  "  and  we  do  not  wonder  that  the  biographer  felt 
compelled  to  add  "  that  his  language  on  this  theme  is  more 
nervous  than  perspicuous,  more  compressed  than  precise ; "" 
though  we  are  still  unable  to  divine  how  such  use  of  lan- 
guage is  any  more  "  nervous  "  or  "  compi'essed,"  than  it  is 
"  perspicuous  "  or  "  precise."  And  Emmons  does  not  merely 
use  the  word  efficient ;  he  also  employs  a  great  variety  of 
kindred  terms.  For  example  :  "  The  Deity,  therefore,  is  so 
far  from  pei'mitting  moral  agents  to  act  independently  of 
himself,  that,  on  the  other  hand,  he  puts  forth  a  j)ositive  in- 
fluence to  make  them  act,  in  every  instance  of  their  conduct, 
just  as  he  pleases."  "Positive  influence "  here  means  the 
same  as  "  efficient ;  "  can  it  be  translated  by  "  independent  ?  " 
He  adds :  "  Such  a  dependent  creature  could  no  more  pro- 
duce his  own  volitions  than  his  own  existence."  Man's  de- 
pendence is  described  as  "  universal  and  absolute."  In  fact, 
in  enforcing  this  favorite  theme,  our  logical  and  metaphysical 
theologian  uses  all  the  exact  and  scientific  terms  and  phrases 
applicable  to  the  subject.  By  interpreting  his  most  definite 
phrases  in  an  indefinite  sense,  there  is  some  danger  of  obscur- 
ing his  otherwise  luminous  utterances. 

Another  way  in  which  it  is  attempted  to  obviate  the  objec- 
tions to  this  obnoxious  doctrine  is  in  the  statement  that  Dr. 
Emmons  did  not  mean  to  teach  "  the  mode  in  which  God 
secures  the  fulfilment  of  his  decrees,"  but  only  the  fact,  that 
he  does  secure  the  fulfilment.  But  this  reply  (Memoir,  pp. 
417-419)  seems  to  overlook  the  real  point  of  the  objection. 
Conversant  as  was  Dr.  Emmons  with  the  decrees  of  the  Most 
High,  he  would  doubtless  have  shrunk  back  from  the  posi- 
tion, that  he  knew  how  God  creates  all  events  and  voli- 
tions.    But  the  real  objection  is,  that  he  identifies  the  divine 


230  THE    THEOLOGICAL    SYSTEM    OF    EMMONS. 

agency  in  respect  to  all  events,  and  all  actions,  wlietlier  good 
or  bad.  How  he  acted  we  do  not  know  ;  but  Emmons  says, 
that,  whatever  be  the  mode,  "  his  agency  was  concerned  in 
'precisely  t/te  same  Tnanner  in  their  [men's]  wrong,  as  in 
their  right  actions ;  "  and  "  that  there  was  no  possible  mode 
in  wdiich  he  could  dispose  them  to  act  right  or  wrong,  but  only 
by  producing  right  or  wrong  volitions  in  their  hearts."  (We 
were  about  to  underscore  these  last  words,  but,  upon  reflec- 
tion, think  that  it  is  quite  unnecessary).  Now,  though  Dr. 
Emmons  did  not  know  just  how  God  produces  these  volitions, 
yet  one  thing  he  did  know,  that  he  produces  them  by  his 
direct  efficiency,  by  immediate  interposition,  that  in  short  He 
creates  all  sinful,  as  well  as  all  holy  volitions.  But  this  leads 
us  to  the  next  topic  in  order — that  is. 

The  agency  of  God  in  producing  sin.  His  theory  on  this 
vital  question  is  simply  an  application  of  his  scheme  of  effi- 
ciency. The  theodicy  of  this  single-hearted  and  single-eyed 
divine  is  as  simple,  straightforward,  unambiguous,  unshrinking 
as  is  his  conception  of  the  divine  agency.  Sin  is  necessary 
to  the  greatest  good  ;  God,  to  manifest  all  his  glory,  must  pro- 
duce sin;  this  he  does  by  creating  sinful  volitions.  H"  men 
''  need  any  kind  or  degree  of  divine  agency  in  doing  good, 
they  need  precisely  the  same  kind  in  doing  evil"  (ii.,  p.  441). 
"  He  wrought  as  effectually  in  the  minds  of  Joseph's  brethren, 
when  the}^  sold  him,  as  when  they  repented  and  besought  his 
mercy.  He  not  only  prepared  these  persons  to  act,  but  he 
made  them  act.  He  not  only  exhibited  motives  before  their 
minds,  but  disj^osed  their  minds  to  comply  with  the  motives" 
(ii.,  p.  441).  In  the  case  of  Saul,  we  have  a  more  definite 
analysis.  After  saying,  that  there  was  "'  a  necessary  and  in- 
fallible connection  between  SauVs  actions  and  motives,"  he 
adds,  that  "  this  certain  connection  could  be  owing  to  no  other 
cause  than  a  secret  divine  influence  on  his  will,  which  gave 
energy  and  success  to  the  motives  which  induced  him  to  ex- 
ecute the  designs  of  Providence."  *    In  the  same  sermon  it  is 

*  Sermon  on  Man's  Activity  and  Dependence  Illustrated  and  Reconciled 


THE  AGENCY  OF  GOD  IN  PRODUCING  SIN.        231 

said,  that  "  on  this  theory  it  is  as  easy  to  account  for  the  first 
offence  of  Adam  as  for  any  other  sin,"  which  is  undoubtedly 
a  fact.  After  disposing  of  all  other  possibilities  as  insufficient, 
he  adds :  As  these  and  all  other  methods  to  account  for  the 
fall  of  Adam  hy  the  instrumentality  of  second  causes,  are  in- 
sufficient to  remove  the  difficulty,  it  seems  necessary  to  have 
recourse  to  the  divine  agency,  and  to  suppose  that  God  wrought 
in  Adam  both  to  will  and  to  do  in  his  first  transgression." 
"  Satan  placed  certain  motives  before  his  mind,  which  by  a 
divine  energy  took  hold  of  his  heart  and  led  him  into  sin." 
In  the  same  way  it  is  argued  that  we  can  "  easily  account  for 
the  moral  depravity  of  Infants."  After  showing  tliat  depravity 
cannot  be  "hereditary,"  he  finds  the  "easy"  solution  of  the 
supposed  difficulty  in  the  statement,  that  "  in  consequence  of 
Adam's  transgression,  God  brings  his  posterity  into  the  world 
in  a  state  of  moral  depravity.  But  how  ?  The  answer  is  easy. 
When  God  forms  the  souls  of  infants  he  forms  them  with 
moral  powers,  and  makes  them  men  in  miniature.  And 
being  men  in  miniature,  he  works  in  them  both  to  will  and  to 
do  of  his  good  pleasure  ;  or  produces  those  moral  exercises  in 
their  hearts,  in  which  moral  depravity  properly  and  essentially 
consists."  (By  the  way,  we  should  like  to  have  a  thorough- 
going Emmonsite,  if  such  there  be,  tell  us,  whether  such  an 
infant,  wdiose  sin  is  coeval  w^th  his  moral  being,  has  the 
natural  ability  to  resist  this  agency  of  God  in  producing  his 
first  sin  ?  If  not,  does  not  the  natural  ability  fail  at  the  fatal 
and  decisive  juncture?)  In  short,  his  doctrine  is  that  "there 
is  but  one  true  and  satisfactory  answer  to  be  given  to  the  ques- 
tion which  has  been  agitated  for  ages.  Whence  came  evil? — and 
that  is.  It  came  from  the  First  Cause  of  all  things  "  (ii.,  683). 
And  all  these  statements,  which  might  be  indefinitely  multi- 
plied, are  reiterated  in  the  most  emphatic  manner,  and  person- 
ally applied  in  the  famous  Pharaoh  sermon,*  leaving  no  doubt, 

*  God,  he  says,  "determined  to  operate  on  his  [Pharaoh's]  heart  itself, 
and  cause  him  to  put  forth  certain  evil  exercises  in  the  view  of  certain  ex- 
ternal motives.  When  Moses  called  upon  him  to  let  the  people  go,  God 
stood  by  him  and  moved  him  to  refuse.     When  Moses  interceded  for  him, 


9.qO, 


THE    THEOLOGICAL    SYSTEM    OF   EIVEVIONS. 


one  would  think,  as  to  the  real  sentiments  of  this  plainest  and 
simplest  and  most  literal  of  pi-eachers — or,  as  Emmons  used 
the  phrase, — of  this  "  sentimental  preacher,"  meaning  a  man 
who,  like  Panl,  preached  plainly  and  metaphysically  at  the 
same  time.  The  amount  of  the  matter  is  this — that  he  uni- 
formly avoids  making  any  distinctions  as  to  the  mode  of  the 
divine  agency.  lie  identifies  that  agency  in  the  material  and 
moral  world ;  he  identifies  it  in  resp)ect  to  both  sin  and  holi- 
ness. He  makes  no  distinctions  upon  the  points  where  the 
theologians  of  all  ages  have  been  most  perplexed  and  most 
careful,  viz.,  the  different  modes  of  the  divine  operations.  God 
in  his  view  always  acts  as  a  sheer  creative  energy.  Sin  is  the 
piroduct  of  the  divine  efficiency. 

But  yet  we  are  informed,  on  venerable  authority,  that  the 
views  of  this  straightforward  divine,  who  wrote  "  plain  ser- 
mons for  plain  people,"  have  been,  on  this  point,  extensively 
misunderstood  and  misrepresented.  Ilis  genei-al  doctrine  of 
divine  efficiency,  and  the  natural  interpretation  of  his  lan- 
guage, as  above  cited,  undoubtedly  favor  the  current  misap- 
prehension. Logic  demanded  of  him  to  make  jnst  these 
statements  ;  and  he  made  them.  But  we  are  told,  that  he 
said  God  "  created  evil,"  because  the  "  Bible  "  used  this  phrase- 


and  procured  him  respite,  God  stood  by  him,  and  moved  him  to  exult  in  his 
obstinacy.  When  the  people  departed  from  his  kingdom,  God  stood  by  him 
and  moved  him  to  pursue  after  them  with  increased  malice  and  revenge. 
And  what  God  did  on  such  particular  occasions,  he  did  at  all  times.  He 
continually  hardened  his  heart,  and  governed  all  the  exercises  of  his  mind, 
from  the  day  of  his  birth  to  the  day  of  his  death.  This  was  absolutely 
necessary  to  prepare  him  for  his  final  state.  All  other  methods,  without 
this,  would  have  failed  of  fitting  him  for  destruction."  One  of  the  most 
ingenious  parts  of  the  Memoir  is  the  running  commentary  given  by  Dr. 
Park  (pp.  409-411)  to  these  hard  sayings,  transferring  them  e/j  &K\o  yevos, 
interpreting  them  as  Biblical  and  intense ;  illustrating  one  of  his  own  criti- 
cisms, that  such  explanations  are  ' '  at  the  exjsense  of  Emmons's  immaculate 
reputation  for  perspicuity  "  ;  and  also  giving  point  to  an  anecdote  which  he 
repeats,  about  a  preacher  who  took  for  his  text,  "God  hardened  Pharaoh's 
heart,"  and  announced  as  the  proposition  of  his  discourse,  that  the  Lord  did 
not  harden  Pharaoh's  heart ;  and  on  leaving  the  church  was  asked,  "  Which 
his  hearers  must  believe,  his  sermon  or  his  text  ?  " 


EJvrMONS  ON  Adam's  sin.  233 

ology.  Is  it  not  rather  to  be  said,  that  he  used  the  Biblical 
j)hrase5  because  it  is  so  pertinent  and  exact  ?  He  says  "  texts 
ought  not  to  be  adduced  to  exiAsiinJirst  principles,  but  first 
principles  are  to  be  adduced  to  explain  and  establish  the 
sense  of  every  text  of  Scrijjture  ;  "  and  the  first  of  all  his  first 
principles  was  undoubtedly  that  of  the  divine  agency.  A.nd 
why,  too,  did  he  not  lay  equal  sti-ess  on  other  words  and 
phrases  of  the  Bible,  which  suggest  an  entirely  difi'erent  view 
of  God's  agency  in  respect  to  sin  ?  Manifestly,  because  these 
phrases  were  not  so  congruous  with  his  radical  theory.  And, 
yet  again,  Emmons  on  this  point  does  not  merely  quote  the 
language  of  Scripture  ;  quite  as  frequentl}^  he  uses  the  most 
precise  scientific  and  metaphysical  phraseology — '  cause,' 
'  produce,'  '  make,'  '  efficient  cause,'  '  positive  influence,'  '  im- 
mediate interposition,'  '  without  the  instrnmentality  of  second 
causes,'  and  the  like.  The  philosophical  vocabulai-y  of  his 
age  has  hardly  a  word  or  phrase,  denoting  direct  causal 
agency,  which  he  does  not  apply  to  the  case  of  God's  relatioii 
to  sin. 

We  are  also  assured  (Memoir,  p.  405),  that  when  this 
'  ardent '  and  'intense'  logician  tells  us  "  it  is  extremely  difli- 
cult  to  conceive  how  he  [Adam]  should  be  led  into  sin  with- 
out the  immediate  interjposition  of  the  Deity,"  that  by  '  inter- 
position '  is  here  meant  only  "  an  interposition  of  new  influ- 
ences, or  a  change  of  the  former  influences."  But  "  immediate 
interposition"  is  surely  more  than  "influence";  it  is  the 
direct  agency  of  God,  which  Emmons  defines  "  as  the  willing 
or  choosing  a  thing  to  exist "  (iv.,  379).  And  so,  too,  when 
this  "  perspicuous "  theologian  afiirms  that  Adam's  sin  can- 
not be  accounted  for  "by  the  instrumentality  of  second  causes," 
we  are  told  (p.  405),  that  "  he  means  the  mere  influence  of 
motives,  etc.,  without  any  attendant  and  governing  agency  of 
God"  How  much  the  slight,  "  etc.^'^  so  carelessly  thrown  in, 
may  be  meant  to  mean,  we  cannot  of  course  conjecture;  but 
if  it  does  not  mean  a  great  deal  more  than  all  the  rest  of  the 
passage,  this  interpretation  reduces "  second  causes  "  to  a  veiy 
insio-nificant  affair.     Did  not  Emmons  mean  to  include  the 


23-i  THE    THEOLOGICAL    SYSTEM    OF    EMMONS. 

will,  as  well  as  motives,  in  these  second  causes?  lie  himself 
sajs,  "  there  is  no  possible  way  in  M'hich  God  could  dispose 
men  to  act  right  or  wrong,  bat  only  by  producing  right  or 
wrong  volition  in  their  hearts."  AVhich  shall  we  believe,  the 
definite  dogma  or  the  indefinite  interjDretaticm  \  Such  explan 
ations  dint  and  blunt  the  edge  of  our  acutest  divine's  sharpest 
sayings. 

Another  attempt  is  made  to  obviate  this  fatal  difficulty  in 
the  scheme  of  this  most  "  consistent  Calvinist,''  by  resolving 
his  theory  of  divine  agency  into  the  more  general  doctrines  of 
decrees  and  providence  (Memoir,  p.  407).  Thus,  when  Emmons 
says  that  God  makes  Adam's  posterity  sinners  "  hy  directly 
operating  on  the  hearts  of  children^  'when  they  first  become 
inoral  agents''''  (ii.,  p.  263),  this  is  interpreted  as  meaning, that 
"  the  divine  agency  keeps  pace  with  the  divine  detenninatiQoi' 
that  xhe  jrrovidence  of  God  embraces  the  &a.me  j?nnGiples,  and 
has  the  sa77ie  extent,  with  the  decrees  of  God  ;  that  there  is  no 
more  objection  to  the  doctrine  of  divine  ejficlency  securing  the 
occurrence  of  all  things  than  to  the  doctrine  of  ^\\''\\\% 2)urj)0ses 
securing  the  certainty  of  all  things."  This  seems  plausible, 
until  we  reflect  that  it  does  not  touch  the  point  of  the  diffi- 
culty. The  difficult}'  is— that  God  is  said  to  make  men  sinners ; 
the  reply  here  suggested  is,  that  there  is  no  more  objection  to 
his  making  them  so,  than  to  his  decreeing  to  make  them  so ; 
which  of  course  is  true.  There  is  the  same  difficulty  about 
his  decreeing  to  make  them  sinners  as  about  his  making  them 
sinners.  The  real  question  is,  whether  God  does  decree  to  make 
them  sinners  by  his  own  act  ?  Is  God's  pro^■idence  simply  and 
solely  God's  direct  agency?  In  short,  if  'providence'  and 
'certainty,'  in  this  explanation,  mean  the  same  with  'agency' 
and  '  efficienc}','  the  dithculty  is  not  answered,  but  only  ]-e- 
affirmed ;  and  if  'providence'  and  'certainty'  mean  any- 
thing more  extensive  than  '  efficiency,'  then  the  explanation 
is  inconsistent  with  Emmons's  fundamental  doctrine.*     The 

*  • '  None  can  have  a  full  and  just  idea  of  the  universality  and  perfection 
of  divine  providence,  without  considering  God  as  governing  all  moral  agents 
iu  all  their  moral  conduct,  by  a  powerful  and  irresistible  influence.     It  is  a 


IS    GOD   THE    AUTHOR    OF    SIN?  235 

tuniing  point  about  his  system  is  in  this  verj  question,  whether 
2:>rovicleuce  is  to  be  resolved  into  efficiency,  or  efficiency  into 
providence.  He  says  the  former,  and  this  apoh)gy  interprets 
him  as  meaning  the  latter.  But,  "  to  vouch  this  is  no  proof, 
without  more  certain  and  more  overt  test.'' 

One  of  the  tests  of  the  way  in  which  a  system  is  really  held, 
is  the  mode  in  which  objections  to  it  are  met  and  answered. 
The  same  objections  were  made  to  the  theory  of  Emmons, 
while  he  yet  lived,  as  are  now  strongly  felt  and  in-ged.  Did 
he  reply  to  them  as  his  present  defenders  reply  ?  If  so,  he 
held  the  system  as  they  defend  it  ;  if  not,  not.  Thus  we  are 
assured  that  he  "  neither  used  nor  tolerated  the  phrase  "  that 
God  is  "  the  author  of  sin."  *     Though  this  denial  is  not  con- 

gross  absurdity  to  suppose  that  the  providence  of  God  is  more  extensive  than 
his  agency,  or  that  he  ever  governs  men  without  exerting  a  positive  influ- 
ence over  them."     (Emmons's  Works,  iv.,  372.) 

*  A  venerable  and  distinguished  Massachusetts  divine,  after  reading  the 
article  of  Dr.  Pond  in  our  last  number,  sent  us  a  communication  on  this 
point,  from  which  we  make  a  few  extracts,  omitting  some  of  the  quotations 
from  Emmons,  which  we  have  already  made.  ' '  Dr.  Pond  says  :  "•  Dr.  Em- 
mons is  charged  with  holding  that  God  is,  in  the  strictest  and  most  proper 
sense  of  the  term,  the  author  of  sin.  But  this  is  an  unfounded  allegation. 
That  the  providence  of  God  is  somehow  concerned  in  the  existence  of  evil, 
he  certainly  did  hold.  But  he  believed,  that  every  man  is  the  responsible 
auctor  OTH  actor  ot  his  own  sin;  and  the  phrase,  God  the  atithm'  of  sin,  he 
never  used. '  But  the  English  term  actor  is  not  derived  from  the  Latin  word 
auctor,  though  here  very  shrewdly  used  as  synonymous  with  it ;  author  is  de- 
rived from  auctor.  Let  it  be,  then,  that  God  is  not  the  actor  of  man's  sin  ; 
yet  in  the  opinion  of  Dr.  E.  he  is  the  auctor,  the  author.  For  what  is  the 
meaning  of  author  '  in  the  strictest  and  most  proper  sense  of  the  term  ?  ' 
Dr.  Webster,  in  his  Dictionary,  defines  author  as  '  one  who  produces,  creates, 
or  brings  into  being ; '  also  '  the  beginner,  former,  or  first  mover  of  any- 
thing; hence  the  e^cienicawse  of  a  thing.'  Now  what  is  the  language  of 
Dr.  Emmons  in  respect  to  the  cause  of  sin  ?  Is  it  not  in  its  plain,  obvious 
meaning  the  same,  as  if  he  had  said,  '  God  is  the  author  of  sin '  ?  The  fol- 
lowing are  his  words  :  '  Moral  agents  can  never  act,  but  only  as  they  are 
acted  upon  by  a  divine  operation.'  (Works,  iv.,  357,  ed.  1842.)  'Adam's 
first  sin  was  a  free,  voluntary  exercise,  produced  by  a  divine  oi^eration  in 
the  view  of  motives.'  He  represents  God  as  the  efficient  cause  of  all  the 
wicked  actions  of  men ;  for  he  says,  '  Whether  men  have  a  good  or  bad  in- 
tention in  acting,  God  has  always  a  good  design  in  causing  them  to  act  as 
they  do'  (iv.,  373).     'The  Deity  is  so  far  from  permitting  moral  agents  to 


23G  THE    THEOLOGICAL    SYSTEM    OF    EMMONS. 

tained  iu  any  of  his  published  writings,  yet  we  can  readily 
accept  ifej  because  the  word  "author"  is  ambiguous;  and  he 
uses  only  unambiguous  phrases.  Thus  lie  certainly  was  wont 
to  defend  outright,  without  qualification,  the  position  that 
"God  is  the  ellicient  cause  of  sin;"  and  the  only  difference 
of  the  two  phrases  is  that  the  latter  expresses  his  real  idea 
more  definitely.  On  page  454  of  the  Memoir  is  a  reported 
conversation  of  Dr.  Emmons  on  this  very  topic;  and  the 
amount  of  it  is,  that  instead  of  retracting  or  modifying  his 
statements,  he  reiterates  his  position  in  various  forms;  as,  e.  g., 
"  God's  will  is  creative ;  "  he  has  only  to  put  forth  a  volition, 
and  the  event  takes  place  ;  "  his  "  will  was  creative  "  when  he 
"  willed  sin  to  exist."  And  then,  explicitly  :  "  My  theory  is 
that  Ood  causes  inoral  evil  in  the  act  of  willing  itP  Here  are 
certainly  no  "  ambages  or  circumgyrations  ;  "  he  marches  right 
up  to  the  mark,  and  does  not  qualify  by  even  an  "immediate 
interposition  "  of  "  infiuences,"  and  "  motives,"  and  other  psy- 
chological and  providential  phenomena.  So,  too,  when  pressed 
by  the  objection,  that  if  "  God  produces  our  moral  exercises, 

act  independently  of  himself,  that  he  puts  forth  a  positive  influence  to  make 
them  act,  in  every  instance  of  their  couduct,  just  as  he  pleases'  (iv.,  361). 
There  can  be  no  mistake  of  his  meaning-,  that  God  causes  the  actions  of  all 
men,  the  most  wicked  as  well  as  the  good,  for  he  said  just  previously  that 
God  must  necessarily  determine  beforehand  'how  he  will  wo)'/c  in  us  both  to 
will  and  to  do,'  and  '  how  we  shall  will  and  do  through  every  period  of  our 
existence.'  Thus,  too,  he  asserts,  that  'the  criminality  of  men  does  not 
consist  in  the  cause  of  their  evil  desires,  affections,  designs,  and  volitions, 
but  in  their  evil  desires,  affections,  designs,  and  volitions  themselves  (iv., 
374).  After  reading  this  plain  language  of  Dr.  Emmons,  and  much  more  in 
the  same  strain,  as  to  God's  being  '  the  cause '  of  all  the  wicked  actions  of 
men  and  of  the  devil  and  his  angels  too,  for  his  words  as  quoted  include 
'  all  moral  agents '  in  the  universe  as  being  '  made  to  act '  in  every  instance 
'  just  as  God  pleases;'  and  after  reading  also  his  sermon  '  on  the  Scriptural 
Account  of  the  Devil,'  I  feel  constrained  to  remark,  that  he  has  written  a 
very  good  sermon  on  the  devil,  but  a  very  bad  sermon  concerning  God ;  for 
he  well  maintains  from  the  Scriptures  the  personality  and  agency  of  the 
devil ;  but  he  ascribes  to  the  agency  and  efl&ciency  of  God  the  pi-oduction  of 
the  sin  of  the  devil  and  of  all  the  sin  in  the  world,  whereas  God  himself 
warns  us  by  his  Apostle  James,  '  let  no  man  say,  when  he  is  tempted,  I  am 
tempted  of  God,'  and  teaches  us  by  his  Apostle  John,  '  he  that  committeth 
Bin  is  of  the  devil,  for  the  devil  sinneth  from  the  beginning.'  " 


OUR   MORAL    EXERCISES    AND    THE    DIVINE    CAUSALITY.       237 

then  they  must  be  his,"  he  responds,  that  "  there  is  no  founda- 
tion for  this  conclusion,  since  our  moral  exercises  axe  produc- 
tions of  the  divine  j?6»wer,  and  not  emanations  of  the  divine 
yiature  /  "  that  is,  all  that  he  excludes  is  pantheism  (Sermon 
on  JNIan's  Activity,  etc.)  ;  he  allows  that  God's  power  produces 
them,  but  says  that  they  are  not  of  the  same  nature  with  God 
— and  this  is  his  chief  defence.  He  likewise  asserts,  tliat  "it 
is  as  consistent  with  the  moral  rectitude  of  the  Deity  to  pro- 
duce sinful,  as  holy  exercises  in  the  minds  of  men.  His  oper- 
ations and  their  voluntary  exercises  are  totally  distinct.'" 
Undoubtedly;  but  still  he  holds  that  the  "  exercises,"  though 
distinct,  are  produced  by  God's  "  operations."  In  another 
passage  he  meets  a  kindred  difficulty  by  suggesting  that 
"  God's  secret  will  respects  one  thing,  but  his  revealed  will 
respects  another ; "  his  secret  will,  whereby  he  ordains  and 
produces  the  sin,  respects  "  the  taking  place  of  things  ;  "  his 
revealed  will,  in  which  sin  is  prohibited  and  condemned,  has 
respect  "  to  the  moral  quality  of  things."  "  Sin  is  one  thing, 
and  the  taking  place  of  sin  is  another"  (iv.,  292).  And  he 
therefore  concludes,  that  God,  with  entii'e  consistency,  can 
both  produce  and  punish  sin.  Now,  it  is  indeed  true  that  a 
distinction  can  be  made  between  the  "nature  of  sin"  and 
the  "  taking  place  of  sin  ;  "  but  no  distinction  can  be  made 
between  the  act  of  sin  and  the  taking  place  of  sin — especially 
on  Emmons's  theory,  which  makes  all  sin  consist  in  act.  And, 
he  expressly  asserts,  that  each  act  of  sin  is  produced  by  God, 
and  that  each  act  of  sin  is  in  its  own  nature  sinful.  "  Put 
these  two  things  together."  And  even  though  it  be  alleged, 
that  it  is  produced  by  God  for  his  own  glory — this  only  makes 
the  matter  still  worse.  For  the  glory  of  God  is  in  his  holi- 
ness ;  sin  is  the  opposite  of  holiness ;  the  opposite  of  holiness 
is  then  necessary  to  holiness.  The  distinction  at  the  basis  of 
his  argument  is  illusory.  But  such  argumentation  shows 
what  a  terrible  power  there  may  be  in  logic  to  blind  the 
minds  of  even  the  best  men  in  respect  to  the  most  awful  and 
vital  themes.  The  sharp  logician  is  tempted  to  mistake  an 
abstract  distinction  for  a  real  difference.     But  our  object  here 


238  THK    THEOLOGICAL    SYSTEM    OF    EMMONS. 

is  not  so  much  to  debate  this  point  as  to  show  how  Emmons 
defends  his  system,  in  contrast  with  the  mode  adopted  by 
some  of  his  advocates.  His  defence  uniformly  presupposes 
that  divine  efficiency  is  ultimate  and  absolute  ;  his  modern 
defenders  suppose  that  this  efficiency  is  to  be  explained  away. 
They  say  that  by  effi(;ient  he  means  independent,  but  he  says 
that  efficiency  is  a  productive  energy;  they  say  his  phrases 
are  Biblical,  and  he  defends  them  as  exact ;  they  resolve  his 
efficiency  into  providence,  he  resolves  providence  into  effi- 
ciency; they  suggest  a  double  sense  from  which  his  simple 
common  sense  would  have  instinctively  recoiled ;  they  inter- 
pret his  most  definite  propositions  as  "  forceful  rhetorical 
turns ; "  and  the  turns  are  "  forceful,"  and  they  are  "  rlietori- 
cal,"  but  they  are  also  strictly  logical.  Emmons,  in  short, 
rests  ultimately  npon  a  theological  basis,  and  his  advocates 
npon  certain  assumed  ethical  maxims. 

And  yet  it  is  claimed,  that  he  held  to  "  Exercises  "  as  well 
as  "  efficiency."  "  The  Exercise  Scheme,"  says  Dr.  Ide,  "  is 
by  common  consent  his."  And  this  leads  us  to  the  next  point 
in  discussion — the  other  half  of  the  system.  While  he  brings 
his  Calvinism  under  the  term  Efficiency,  he  defends  under 
the  name  of  Exercises  those  views  in  mental  and  moral  phi- 
losophy which  the  pressure  of  some  New  England  speculations 
had  led  him  to  adopt.  And  here  are  several  of  his  most  start- 
ling positions ;  those  in  which  he  is  at  war  with  the  Calvin- 
istic  tradition.  He  is  as  strenuous,  logical,  and  dogmatic  on 
this  side  as  he  is  on  the  other.  lie  counts  his  postulates  to 
be  axiomatic.  lie  fully  believes  them  to  be  not  only  con- 
sistent with,  but  deductions  from  his  stern  Calvinism.  He 
does  not  think  that  he  is  holding  two  schemes,  but  only  one. 
And  our  general  position  here  is  this — that  whoever  adopts 
his  Exercise  Scheme  must,  if  logical,  also  adopt  his  main  in- 
ferences from  it ;  and  that  his  exercise  scheme  is  made  Cal- 
vinistic  only  by  theory  of  Divine  Efficiency.  In  all  this,  the 
Franklin  divine  is  by  far  the  most  logical  and  consistent 
theologian  that  New  England  has  produced.  In  relation,  too, 
to  tendencies  current  in  his  times,  his  positions  were  carefully 


"all  sin  is  sinning."  239 

and  consistently  taken.  lie  wanted  to  defend  Calvinism 
equally  against  Antinomianism,  Arniinianism,  and  Univer- 
salism.  His  exercise  scheme  was  to  extirpate  the  Antiiio- 
mians ;  wliile  the  divine  efficiency,  in  combination  with  the 
exercises,  was  to  root  out  all  Arminians  and  Universalists. 

What  now  are  these  Exercises  on  which  so  much  depends? 
"  Exercise  "  is  the  generic  word,  by  which  Emmons  denotes 
all  mental  and  moral  states,  or  rather  acts  ;  for  he  does  not 
recognize  a  spiritual  state,  which  is  not  an  activity.  Some  in- 
terpret liim  as  implying,  that  the  soul  itself  is  only  these  exer- 
cises. Eacli  exercise,  he  says,  is  simple  and  single,  produced, 
of  course,  by  the  divine  agency.  The  moral  exercises,  tliose 
of  the  heart  or  will  (which  Emmons  does  not  sunder),*  are 
termed  Volitions.  These  Volitions,  and  volitions  alone,  have 
a  moral  character  ;  each  one  of  them  is  either  perfectly  holy 
or  perfectly  sinful,  f  There  is  no  character  in  anything  pre- 
ceding these  volitions  (in  any  antecedent  taste,  bias,  principle 
or  disposition),  for  the  cogent  reason,  that  there  is  no  such 
taste  or  bias,  about  which  we  can  know  or  affirm  anything. 
Each  of  these  volitions,  still  further,  is  created  pei'fectly  free  ; 
and  a  man  that  has  them  can  do  as  he  has  a  mind  to.  "^  Voli- 
tions, and  volitions  alone,  are  the  subjects  of  moral  approba- 
tion or  disapprobation,  of  reward  or  punishment.  God's 
moral  government  knows  nothing  about  anything  else. 

Such  being  the  character  of  these  voluntary  acts— several 
"  interesting  "  conclusions  follow.  (1)  There  is  no  original  sin, 
in  the  sense  of  hereditary  depravity.  Adam  commhted  the 
only  strictly  original  sin  that  this  world  ever  knew.  Tliat  is, 
the  only  mere  man,  m'Iio,  according  to  the  doctrine  of  tlie 
chui-ch,  had  no  original  sin,  is,  according  to  Emmons,  the  only 
one  who  ever  had  any.  "  All  sin  is  sinning."  (2)  Tliere  was 
original  righteousness,  in  the  strictest  sense,  in  Adam.     God 

*  The  Taste  men  first  made  the  articulate  distinction  between  the  heart 
and  the  will.  See  Burton's  Essays  (a  book  too  little  known),  pp.  19,  53, 
84,  ct  passim. 

t  Hopkins  also  said  (System,  i.,  129)  :  "Every  Moral  action  is  either  per- 
fectly holy  or  perfectly  sinful." 


240  THE    THEOLOGICAL    SYSTEM    OF    EMMONS. 

created  liim  holy.  "  It  is  agreeable  to  the  nature  of  virtue, 
or  holiness  to  be  created."  (See  his  Sermon  on  the  Primitive 
Rectitude  of  Adam.)  He  adds,  that  holiness  is  "something 
which  has  a  real  and  positive  existence,  and  which  not  only 
may,  but  must  be  created.''^  "  Adam  could  not  be  the  efficient 
cause  of  his  own  volition."  "God  not  only  viight,  but  must 
have  ci-eated  Adam  either  holy  or  unhol3\"  (3)  There  is,  and 
can  be,  no  imputation,  either  of  sin  or  of  righteousness.  Each 
man,  or  rather,  each  volition,  stands  or  falls  for  itself  alone. 
Men  are  indeed  "  constituted "  sinners  in  conse(|uence  of 
Adam's  sin  ;  but  solely  in  virtue  of  a  divine,  sovereign  "con- 
stitution," and  not  at  all  as  a  moral,  still  less  as  a  legal  pro- 
cedure ;  for  all  that  is  moral  is  in  single  volitions,  and  ]iot  in 
any  generic  constitution.*  So,  too,  by  the  strictest  parity  of 
reasoning,  there  cannot  be  any  imputation  of  Christ's  right- 
eousness— for  all  holiness  is  in  the  individual  volitions,  and  in 
nothing  else.  (1)  It  equally  follows,  in  the  way  of  logic,  that 
justification  is  simply  forgiveness  or  pardon,  and  does  not  in- 
clude or  involve  any  title  to  eternal  life.  (5)  The  theory  itself 
expressly  declares  that  each  volition  must  be  perfectly  holy  or 
perfectly  sinful.  This,  to  be  sure,  is  against  all  consciousness, 
and  could  never  be  proved,  either  from  Scripture,  or  by  induc- 
tion. But  the  logic  demands  it — and  if  the  facts  do  not  cor- 
respond, so  much  the  worse  for  such  very  illogical  facts. 
Some  other  "  entertaining  sentiments,"  as  IIo2:)kins  would  call 
them,  might  be  deduced  from  this  same  theory  ;  but  these  are 
enough  to  exhibit  the  character  and  bearings  of  the  specula- 
tion, and  to  warrant  a  more  particular  inquiry  into  its  grounds 
and  reasons. 

Materialists  hold  tliat  the  mind  is  a  modification  of  matter 
— matter  acting  in   certain  modes — the  substance,  however, 

*  In  his  own  singular  phraseology  :  "By  constituting-  Adam  the  public 
head  of  his  posterity,  God  suspended  their  holiness  and  sinfulness  upon  his 
conduct.  So  that  his  holiness  would  constituUonnlly  render  them  holy,  and 
his  sinfulness  would  constitutionally  render  them  unholy. "  Constitutionnl  here 
means  a  sovereign  constitution  or  plan  of  God.  In  modern  Hopkinsiaui.sm 
constitution  is  used  for  what  is  human,  in  old  Ilopkinsianism  for  a  divine 
arrana-ement. 


A    PECrLIARITY    OF   HIS   PSYCHOLOGY.  241 

being  distinct  and  distinguisliahle  from  its  activities.  Almost 
all  ancient  and  modern  spiritual  psychologists  agree  in  the 
positions,  that  the  mind  or  soul  is  a  simple  essence,  having 
its  proper  qualities  or  faculties,  and  that  its  activities  or  exer- 
cises are  tlie  manifestations  of  this  essence  and  these  proper- 
ties. That  is,  both  materialists  and  spiritualists  make  a  dis- 
tinction between  the  substance  and  its  qualities,  and  between 
both  of  these  and  their  activities  or  exei-cises;  and  this  seems 
agreeable  to  common  sense  and  the  nature  of  things.  Almost 
all,  too,  carry  this  distinction  out  in  such  a  way,  that  they  say 
of  any  beings  or  sul)stances,  existing  in  time,  that  the  essence 
is  or  may  be  before  the  manifestation  ;  that  the  activity  is 
the  product  of,  and  of  course  is  possibly  subsequent  to, 
the  essence,  attributes  or  tendencies.  Distinguishable  in 
thought,  they  may  also  be  in  the  order  of  time— so  far  forth 
as  they  are  finite.  The  peculiarity,  now,  of  Emmons's  meta- 
physics and  psychology  on  this  point  is,  that  he  refuses  to 
recognize,  or  at  least  to  apply,  these  fundamental  distinctions. 
He  identifies  the  soul  with  its  energies  ;  tendencies  with  ac- 
tivities ;  taste  or  princij^le  with  exercises ;  the  heart  with  the 
will;  the  will  with  volitions ;  and,  in  the  last  analysis,  es- 
sence with  phenomena.  The  popular  and  bungling  phase 
about  his  theory  is,  that  he  maintained  that  the  soul  is  a 
chain  or  series  of  exercises.*  Professor  Park  (Mem.,  412) 
attempts  to  shield  him  on  this  point  from  the  felicitous  and 
well-aimed  shaft  of  the  New  Haven  professors  (cited,  ibid.,  p. 
420)  ;  but  all  that  his  quotations  prove  is — that  nobody  could 
use  the  English  language  and  be  consistent  with  such  a  the- 
ory. And  in  fact,  the  theory  is  demanded  by  the  whole 
spirit  of  Emmons's  theology.     If  there  was   anything  which 

*  Dr.  Dvvight,  it  is  well  known,  wrote  an  able  sermon  on  this  theme. 
It  is  generally  sui^posed  that  Emmons  was  meant ;  but  we  recollect  seeing 
some  years  since,  a  statement  that  the  President  of  Yale  had  in  mind  some- 
body nearer  New  Haven — the  younger  Edwards.  If  this  be  so,  it  shows 
that  in  the  Exercise  Scheme,  as  well  as  on  the  Atonement,  and  the  happi- 
ness theory  of  ethics,  and  the  position  that  man  has  physical  ability  to  over- 
come his  moral  inability,  the  younger  Edwards,  unlike  his  father,  was  a 
forerunner  of  much  modern  Edwardeauism. 
16 


242  THE    THEOLOGICAL    SYSTEM    OF    EMMOXS. 

he  Lated  with  a  pure  theological  odium,  it  was  Arminiaiiism  ; 
if  there  was  anything  which  he  loved  with  an  intense  theo- 
logical affection  (next  to  his  moral  love  for  God  and  his 
neighbor)  it  was  Efficiency  and  Exercises — efficiency  in  be- 
half of  God,  and  exercises  in  view  of  man.  Now  if  he  conld 
onl}'  contrive  to  make  this  love  and  this  hatred  work  into  one 
system,  he  might  well  saj^,  speaking  theologically,  I  have 
finislicd  my  ctuirse,  I  have  kept  the  faith,  henceforth,  et(.-. 
Snch  an  accc)mplishment  was  worthy  of  a  strenuous  theory, 
even  if  a  point  were  strained  in  making  it.  The  main  diffi- 
culty was  in  reconciling  his  love  for  Exercises,  with  his 
hatred  to  Arminianism  ;  and  this  on  two  points.  Arminians 
held,  with  him,  that  all  sin  and  holiness  are  in  exercises ; 
they  also  held,  being  seduced  thereto  by  common  sense,  that 
there  is  a  soul  with  all  its  power  and  tendencies,  before  the 
exercises;  and,  since  there  is  no  sin  except  in  exercises,  they 
concluded — beino-  heretics,  that  such  a  soul,  before  it  acted, 
was  in  an  innocent  or  neutral  state.  Now  it  would  never  do 
for  a  strict  Calvinist  to  grant  this — and  yet,  says  Emmons,  all 
sin  is  sinning,  and  all  holiness  is  active  love.  Here  is  the 
emergency,  and  "  the  giant "  (as  Professor  Park  calls  him) 
showed  himself  equal  to  the  task.  lie  just  said — God  creates 
volitions — and  the  thing  was  done:  Gioberti's  formula,  Deus 
creat  exisfentias,  is  not  more  keen.  That  is — no  tendencies 
before  acts,  for  if  there  were,  those  tendencies  must  be  neu- 
tral,* which  leads  to  Arminianism  ;  but,  if  there  may  be  a 
soul  before  an  act,  then  there  may  be  tendencies  before  ac- 
tivities— consequently,  no  soul  before  an  act;  but,  there 
must  be  a  soul  before  an  act,  if  the  category  of  essence  and 
attributes  be  ratioiuil  and  ultimate — consequently,  this  cate- 
gory must  be  ignored. f     And  in   all  this,   Emmons  is  emi- 

*  Hopkins  preceded  Emmons  in  the  attempt  to  explain  what  came  before 
the  exercises  as  a  "neutral "  ground  ;  but  he  at  last  seemed  inclined  to  re- 
solve it  into  a  mere  divine  constitution.  Emmons  saw  that  this  was  the 
only  consistent  course. 

f  "  We  are  conscious,"  says  Emmons,  "of  having  perception,  reason, 
conscience,  memory,  and  volition.  These  are  the  essential  properties  of 
the  soul,  and  in  these  properties  the  essence  of  the  soul  consists  ;  we  can 


IN    WHAT    SENSE    ElVIMONS    DENIED    ORIGINAL    SIN.  243 

neutly  "  consistent."  To  be  sure,  a  fundamental  idea  of  the 
human  mind  is  set  aside,  and  one  ap2:)lication  of  the  law  of 
causality  is  slurred  over — but  what  is  that,  compared  with 
the  rout  of  the  Arminians,  and  the  triumph  of  supralapsa- 
rian  Calvinism,  combined  with  a  steadfast  adherence  to  the 
Exercise  scheme?  His  theory  is,  that  God  creates  the  soul 
in  creating  its  exercises ;  that  he  brings  every  descendant  of 
Adam  into  being  a  sinner,  in  consequence  of  Adam's  sin. 
Man's  personal  and  moral  being,  and  his  sinning,  are  simul- 
taneous. •'  It  is  impossible,"  he  says,  "  to  conceive  of  a  cor- 
rupt and  sinful  nature, J?r^cr  to,  and  distinct  from,  corrupt 
and  sinful  exercises."  AVhy  not  ?  Not  merely,  as  is  now 
held,  be(;ause  all  sin  must  consist  in  act;  but  for  the  pro- 
founder  reason,  that  tJie  very  soul  consists  of  activities.  lie 
saw  that  he  could  not,  as  a  good  metaphysician  and  logician, 
defend  the  former  position  without  advancing  the  latter. 
Here  was  his  strategic  point. 

In  other  words,  though  Emmons  denied  original  sin,  yet  he 
did  it  in  an  entirely  different  sense  from  that  of  modern  IIop- 
kinsianism.  He  did  it  on  the  basis  of  a  wholly  different  me- 
taphysic  and  psycliolog}^  Holding  that  there  was  no  soul 
except  in  volitions,  he  could  afford  to  say,  there  is  no  original 
sin,  for  the  conclusive  reason  that  his  theory  does  not  recog- 
nize any  moral  and  personal  being,  of  whom  such  original  sin 
could  be  predicated.  (What  might  possibly  become  of  the 
foetus,  if  it  died  before  it  got  a  soul,  is  here  the  unanswered 
question.)  He  could  very  well  say,  and  did  say,  that  as  soon 
as  there  is  a  real  human  being,  it  is  sinful,  because  it  is  created 
in  the  act  of  sinning — the  soul  is  caught  in  the  very  act.  And 
thus  his  theory  enables  him  to  be  very  strenuous  about  the 
connection  between  Adam's  sin  and  ours.  But  the  whole  state 
of  the  case  was  entirely  altered,  when  Berkeleianism  was  sup- 
planted by  the  Scotch  philosophy,  and  the  distinctions  between 
the  soul  and  its  exercises,  between  tendencies  and  voluntary 

form  no  conception  of  the  soul  as  distinct  from  these  properties,  or  as  the 
foundation  of  them."  "  All  we  know  about  body  are  its  properties;  and 
all  we  know  about  mind  are  its  properties." 


244  THE    THEOLOGICAL    SYSTEM    OF    EAESIONS. 

acts,  between  the  heart  and  the  will,  were  reinstated  in  their 
rational  riglit.  The  Exercise  scheme  became  another  scheme, 
in  its  sense,  its  bearings,  and  its  resnlts.  It  was  cut  loose  from 
its  Calvinistic  moorings  ;  it  was  divorced  from  the  divine  effi- 
ciencj.  The  divine  element  was  eliminated,  and  the  hnman 
will,  in  the  constrnction  of  the  system,  took  the  place  of  the 
divine  will.  Modern  Emmonism  is  thus  as  different  from  the 
old  sclieme  as  democracy  from  imperialism,  or  Congregation- 
alism from  the  papacy,  or  psychology  from  metaphysics,  or 
ethics  from  divinity,  or  the  hnman  will  from  the  divine.  The 
same  phrases  may  be  nsed,  but  there  is  another  sense  ;  there 
may  be,  to  outward  seeming,  the  same  eyeball,  but  another 
soul  looks  out ;  the  hands  feel  like  the  hands  of  Jacob,  but  the 
voice  is  the  voice  of  Esau. 

This  same  point  is  also  illustrated  by  Emmons's  theory  of 
Natural  Ability.  He  undoubtedly  made  verj^  sweeping  state- 
nients  about  ability.  He  must  do  so,  if  any  room  was  to  be 
left  for  human  freedom  and  responsibility  in  face  of  the  divine 
efficiency.  If  men  would  only  accept  the  eflSciency  he  could 
afford  to  talk  strongly  about  their  exercises.  He  emphasized 
the  abstract  possibility  of  a  different  volition  from  the  one 
actually  created.  Thus  there  was  a  seeming  freedom  left. 
He  exaggerated  ability  in  phrases,  just  as  he  exaggerated  effi- 
ciency in  fact.  But  it  is  after  all  a  shadowy  realm.  And  his 
attempts  at  reconciliation  are  equally  ingenious  and  unsatis- 
factory. His  "joints"  are  the  nice  juxtaposition  of  atoms, 
rather  than  the  junction  of  an  organism  by  vital  nerves  and 
living  bands.  Here,  too,  his  formulas  are  simple  and  com- 
prehensive ;  God  creates  volitions  ;  volitions  are  in  their  very 
nature  free.  "  The  Deity  by  working  in  men  both  to  will  and 
to  do  lays  them  under  an  absolute  necessity  of  acting  freely  " 
(iv.,  351).  God's  "  acting  on  men's  hearts  and  producing  all 
their  free  voluntary  moral  exercises,  necessai'ily  makes  them 
moral  agents  "  (iv.,  385).  The  first  volition  of  every  created 
agent  must  have  had  a  cause  altogether  involuntary  "  ;  it 
"  not  only  may  but  must  be  created."  Adam,  for  example, 
"  could  no  more  ]:)roduce  his  own  volitions  than  his  own  exist- 


HIS    STATEiLENTS    ABOUT    FREEDOM   AND    ABILITY.  245 

ence.  A  self-determining  power  is  an  independent  power, 
which  never  was,  and  never  could  be  given  to  Adam."  To 
objectors  he  replies  thus :  "I  teach  that  God  creates  within 
lis  free  moral  exercises.  Can  they  sa^',  that  exercises  which 
are  created  free  are  not  free  ?  One  of  my  opposers  once  said 
in  a  sermon,  that  an  exercise  which  is  not  self-originated  can- 
not be  voluntary,  and  if  it  is  made  free,  it  is  not  free.  But 
this  man  was  by  birth  an  Irishman."  Does  not  the  divine 
who  thus  replies  to  the  "  Irishman  "  seem  to  imply,  that  if  he 
says  they  w^ere  "  created  free,"  that  that  settles  the  matter,  and 
the  difhculty  ?  Ilis  statements  in  respect  to  ability,  too,  are 
equally  emphatic  with  those  about  the  freedom  of  volition. 
"  Every  sinner  is  as  ahle  to  embrace  the  Gospel  as  a  thirsty 
man  is  to  drink  water."  They  "  are  as  ahle  to  do  right  as  to 
do  wrongP  "  Men  always  have  natural  power  to  frustrate 
those  divine  decrees  which  they  are  appointed  to  fulfil "  (iv., 
304).  And  this  he  conceives  to  be  consistent  with  the  posi- 
tion, that  men  "  cannot  originate  a  single  thought,  affection, 
or  volition  independently  of  a  divine  influence  upon  their 
minds  "  (iv.,  397). 

How,  now,  are  these  resolute  statements  about  dependence 
and  freedon:i,  ability  and  inability  to  be  understood  ?  Does 
Ennnons  mean  to  teach  the  current  doctrine  of  self-determina- 
tion, of  self -originated  choices  ?  lie  expressly  repudiates  it,  as 
Arminian.  Does  he  mean  to  teach,  that  man,  before  action, 
has  a  faculty  of  will,  which  is  the  cause  of  volition,  so  that 
volition  is  its  proper  effect?  This  he  expressly  denies  under 
two  asjjects.  He,  in  the  first  place,  identifies  will  and  voli- 
tion :  v\-ill,  he  says,  "  never  proj^erly  means  a  principle,  or 
power,  or  faculty  of  the  mind  ;  but  only  choice,  action,  or 
volition^  And,  in  the  second  place,  he  denies  the  position, 
that  free  agency  consists  in  a  power  to  originate  voluntary 
exercises :  "  many  imagine  that  their  free  agency  consists  in 
a  power  to  cause  or  originate  their  owm  voluntary  exercises  ; 
but  tliis  would  imply  that  they  are  independent  of  God " 
.  .  .  who  "is  the  primary  cause  of  every  free  voluntary 
exercise  in  every  human  heart."     And  then  he  adds, — which 


246  THE    THEOLOGICAL    SYSTEM    OF    EMMONS. 

shows  US  just  how  the  whole  thing  stood  in  his  mind  :  "  But 
this  is  consistent  with  man's  having  [not  producing]  free 
voluntary  exercises,  w^hich  is  the  essence  of  free  agency.'''' 
That  is,  if  we  only  have  them,  no  matter  how  we  come  by 
them,  they  are  still  free.  Se  sharpens  this  position :  "  A 
power  to  act  without  choosing  to  act  would  be  of  no  advan- 
tage to  them,  if  they  possessed  it.  But  they  do  not  possess 
such  a  power,  neither  does  God  possess  such  a  power."  The 
possession  of  this  power  is  the  emphatic  point  in  the  modern 
theories  of  the  will,  where  it  is  represented  as  essential  to 
praise  and  blame,  to  holiness  and  sin.  But  the  metaphysics 
and  psychology  of  Emmons,  as  well  as  his  efficiency  scheme, 
are  irreconcilable  with  this  view.  Freedom  with  him  is 
simply  an  attribute  of  a  given  volition ;  given  a  volition,  it  is 
free,  whatever  be  its  cause.*  Ilis  view  of  freedom  is  so  low, 
that  he  even  says,  that  animals  are  free  agents :  "  The  ani- 
mal creation  are  free  agents  because  they  act  of  choice  "  (iv., 
380).  That  is,  free  agency  is  found  as  really  in  the  natural, 
as  in  the  spiritual  sphere.  Hence  all  tliat  is  necessary  to 
freedom,  is  to  have  a  volition  produced — no  matter  how. 
Hence,  too,  he  could,  and  did,  say,  that  God's  producing 
these  volitions  lays  man  "under  an  ahsolute  necessity  of  act- 
ing freely.''''  He  also  said,  that  volitions  "  are  virtuous  or 
vicious  in  their  own  nature,  without  the  least  regard  to  the 
cause  by  which  they  are  produced  "  (see  his  whole  argument 
on  Adam's  Primitive  Kectitude,  Works,  iv.,  447  sq.) :  biit 
some  of  his  disciples  say  just  the  opposite,  viz.,  that  unless 
we  produce  them,  with  full  power  to  the  contrary,  they  can- 
not be  praiseworthy  or  blameworthy. 

His  theory  of  "  physical "  or  natural  ability  (not  of  "  power 

*  Hopkins  lield  the  same  view.  ' '  Herein  consists  man's  freedom,  that 
his  choice  is  a  choice,  or  his  will  a  will.  Althongh  he  be  not  the  cause, 
original  mover,  or  efficient  agent  of  the  choice,  yet  it  is  his,  being  produced 
in  him"  (System,  i.,  ch.  iv.).  What  do  modern  Hopkinsians  say  to  his  po- 
sition, that  persons  "  may  be  moral  agents,  and  sin,  without  knowing  what 
the  law  of  God  is,  or  of  what  nature  their  exercises  are,  and  while  they  have 
no  consciousness  that  they  are  wrong"  ?  (i.,  339). 


HIS    TIIEOKY    OF    NATURAL   ABILITY.  247 

to  the  contrary  ")  runs  back  of  course  into  this  theory  of  free- 
dom. He  generally  uses  the  word  ability  in  an  external 
sense,  as  meaning  the  power  of  doing  as  one  pleases.  Some- 
times, however,  it  denotes  with  him  the  abstract  possibility  of 
a  different  choice.  But  choice  itself,  he  distinctly  says,  is  de- 
pendent on  something  else  besides  this  natural  power  :  "  Two 
things  are  absolutely  necessary  in  order  to  men's  acting  ;  one 
is  to  be  able,  and  tlie  other  is  to  be  willing.  By  being  able 
is  meant  a  natural  power  to  act ;  and  by  being  willing  a  moral 
power  to  act  "  (iv.,  305).  And  this  "  moral  power  "  is  what 
God  confers  in  "  producing  "  the  exercises.  If  both  are  "  ab- 
solutely necessary,"  then  the  natural  power  without  the  moral 
would  seem  to  be  insufficient.  But  he  is  not  always  faithful 
to  this  view.  He  sometimes  talks  as  if  the  natural  power 
alone  were  sufficient,  or  as  if  the  natural  ability  could  produce 
the  moral  power.*  He  presses  this  point  verbally  so  as  to 
demand  the  advanced  position,  taken  by  some  of  his  followers. 
His  natural  ability  had  in  fact  no  hold,  or  substance,  no  back- 
ground to  support  it ;  a  possible  volition  without  a  real  will 
ajid  a  real  soul,  was  a  mere  abstraction.  But  as  soon  as  a  soul 
with  all  its  po\vers  and  capacities  was  brought  in,  the  whole 
aspect  and  bearings  of  the  theory  were  altered.  The  divine 
efficiency  was  driven  back.  Though  Emmons's  own  doctrines 
of  philosophical  necessity  and  divine  efficiency  kept  him  from 
affirming  a  self-determining  power  of  the  will ;  yet  he  so  ex- 
alted natural  power,  in  tlieory,  that  it  became  proud  and 
boastful,  broke  loose  from  the  divine  efficiency,  and  set  up  for 
itself.  In  break hig  loose  from  divine  efficiency  it  also  broke 
loose  from  Emmons.  In  hypostatising  a  real  faculty  of  will, 
in  affirming  self-determination,  in  asserting  that  natural  ability 
of  itself  is  enough  (as  simple  power)  to  account  for  the  voli- 


*  One  sentence  strikingly  illustrates  the  curious  results  to  which  his  novel 
phraseology  sometimes  led.  "  If  they  [men]  were  willing  as  well  as  able 
to  defeat  his  [God's]  puiposes,  they  certainly  would  defeat  them"  (iv. , 
80.)).  It  is  usually  thought  that  wicked  men  are  quite  willing  to,  but  can- 
not ;  Emmons  says,  they  can,  but  are  not  willing.  What  sort  of  an  "  abil- 
ity "  is  that  ? 


248  TUE    THEOLOGICAL    SYSTEM    OF   EMMONS. 

tioii,  the  new  scheme  is  unfaithful  to  the  real  spirit  of  Em- 
mons ;  it  retains  his  phraseology  and  alters  its  sense ;  it  keeps 
the  exercises  and  denies  the  efficiency  that  produces  them. 
The  modern  theory  demands  a  pause,  as  it  were,  between  the 
divine  agency  and  man's  act,  so  that  man  may  have  a  chance 
to  choose ;  while  Emmons  says,  the  divine  agency  makes  the 
volition.  The  human  will,  instead  of  the  divine,  is  the  con- 
structive idea  of  the  new  system.  And  yet,  it  is  pretended 
that  the  systems  are  the  same  on  the  essential  points.  Just  as 
if  Emmons,  and  men  of  his  stamp,  spent  their  days  in  exalting 
the  human  will!  The  difliculty  with  him  was  in  reconciling 
human  freedom  with  his  main  dogma  of  divine  efficiency  ;  the 
difficulty  with  the  moderns  is  to  reconcile  even  decrees  and 
providence  with  their  dogma  of  tJie  power  to  the  contrary. 
God  was  the  soul  of  the  one  system ;  man  is  the  measure  of 
the  other. — And  as  to  Emmons's  mode  of  reconciling  depend- 
ence and  free  agency,  to  which  two  of  his  most  noted  sermons 
are  devoted — the  process  consists  in  stating  clearly  aiidsharply 
both  points,  God's  universal  agency,  and  the  freedom  of  vo- 
litions, and  then  saying,  that  tlie  divine  efficienciy  creates  the 
volitions  free.  In  one  passage,  he  also  says,  that  the  two 
truths  cannot  clash,  because  they  fall  under  the  cogm'zance 
of  different  faculties — the  dependence  under  "  reason,"  and 
the  freedom  under  "  connnon  sense."  JBut  this  is  a  merely 
external  remark.  Tlie  chief  solution  is,  in  the  simple  doctrine 
of  efficiency.  This  is  no  solution,  it  is  simply  assertion. 
We  cannot  accept  it,  even  though  he  also  asserts,  that  the  de- 
Jiial  of  it  is  "  either  open  infidelity  or  impious  blasphemy  " 
(iv.,  386). 

The  most  startling,  yet  logical,  application  of  the  Exercise 
scheme  is,  however,  to  the  doctrine  of  Justification,  in  relatioji 
to  the  rewards  of  a  future  life.  The  atonement  of  Christ,  it 
says,  directly  procured  only  the  forgiveness  of  sins.  Justifi- 
cation consists  in  this  forgiveness.  Emmons  held  indeed  to 
the  Protestant  doctrine  that  justification  is  "  the  gift  of  the 
giver,"  and  not  "  the  reward  of  the  workei- ;  "  but  he  held  this 
just  because  he  limited  justification  to  pardon.     Hopkins  re- 


OBEDIENCE    THE    ONLY    TITLE    TO    ETEKNAL    LIFE.  24:9 

taineJ  both  .the  active  and  j)assive  obedience  of  Christ ;  *  Em- 
mons not  only  denied  tlie  active  obedience,  but  he  also  denied 
that  justification  confers  a  title  to  eternal  life.  lie  shrunk 
from  no  conclusions  which  his  exercise  theory  imposed.  Dr. 
Spring,  of  Newburyport,  and  most  of  the  older  New  England 
divines  here  parted  company  with  him  ;f  but  he  stuck  to  his 
thesis  (the  title  of  one  of  liis  sermons) — IIolu  Ohedienoe  the 
Only  Title  to  Eternal  Life — not  because  obedience  "  merits  " 
life,  for  the  creature  cannot  merit  anything  of  the  Creator,  but 
because  it  makes  us  "  worthy  of  apj^robation  ;  "  it  is  a  ''  re- 
w^ard  of  grace."  There  is  an  "essential  difference,"  he  says, 
"  between  the  ground  of  God's  justifying  [p>ardoning]  men, 
and  the  ground  on  which  he  rewards  with  eternal  life." 
"  He  forgives  them  solely  on  the  ground  of  Chrisfs  atoneynent, 
but  he  rewards  them  solely  on  the  ground  of  their  good  worlcsr 
The  contrary  opinion   is  "not  only  an  error,  but  a  palpable 

*  Hopkins  says  :  "  The  law  could  not  be  fulfilled  by  Jesus  Christ,  without 
his  suffering  the  penalty  of  it,  and  obeying  it  perfectly."  "  Atonement  con- 
sists in  fulfilling-  the  'penal  part  of  the  law  by  suffering  to  provide  the  way 
for  pardon  only  ;  while  meritorious  obedience  is  such  conformity  to  the  pre- 
ceptive part  of  the  law  as  procures  jwsitive  righteousness.^''  The  remission 
of  sins,  he  asserts,  would  be  "  a  very  partial  redemption  ;  "  it  was  therefore 
necessary  that  Christ  should  obey  the  precepts  of  the  law  for  man,  and  in 
his  stead,  that  by  his  perfect  and  meritorious  obedience  he  might  honor  the 
law  in  the  preceptive  parts  of  ib,  and  obtain  all  the  positive  favors  and  ben- 
efits which  were  needed."  ''When  a  sinner  is  justified  he  is  pardoned  on 
account  of  the  atonement,  and  accepted  as  a  just  one,  on  account  of  themer- 
itorious  obedience  ot  his  substitute  "  (System,  i.,  pp.  468,  198-9,  etc).  Em- 
mons, on  the  contrary,  was  averse  to  the  phrase — "  the  merits  of  Christ." 

\  In  connection  with  this  matter,  a  good  anecdote  is  told  in  the  Memoir 
(p.  450)  of  the  following  "  laconic,  magisterial  and  patronizing "  epistle, 
sent  to  Dr.  Emmons  :  "  May  1st.  My  dear  brother,  I  have  read  your  ser- 
mon on  the  Atonement,  and  have  wept  over  it.  Yours  affectionately,  A.  B. 
C."  To  which  he  at  once  replied  :  "May  3d.  Dear  sir,  I  have  read  your 
letter,  and  laughed  at  it.  Yours,  Nath'l  Emmons."  The  divine  who  wrote 
this  epistle  is  understood  to  be  Dr.  Griffin.  We  are  assured,  on  direct  au- 
thority, that  there  must  be  some  mistake  about  this  anecdote  ;  that  Dr. 
Emmons,  on  being  questioned  about  it,  said,  that  though  he  received  from 
Dr.  Griffin  a  letter  on  this  subject,  he  did  not  reply  to  it.  He  also  said  that 
the  amount  of  the  letter  was  that  the  doctrine  of  his  (Emmons's)  sermon  ou 
the  Atonement  "robbed  the  believer  of  half  his  Saviour." 


250  THE    THEOLOGICAL    SYSTEM    OF    EMMO^"S. 

absui'ditv."  And  on  his  exercise  theory,  it  is  so.  For,  if  all 
that  is  moral,  all  that  is  the  subject  of  moral  judgmeuts,  praise 
or  blame,  reward  or  penalty,  is  in  individual  volitions,  and  in 
these  alone,  then  it  is  a  "  j)alpable  absurdity  "  to  say  that 
Christ's  merits  can  confer  on  other  beings  "  a  title  to  eternal 
life."  In  logic,  "  holy  obedience  is  the  only  title  to  eternal 
life."  lie  is  riglit  in  saying  that  "there  is  no  propriety  in 
using  the  term  merits  of  Christ.''^  This,  to  be  sure,  cuts  deep 
into  the  Christian  system  ;  but  it  is  the  inevitable  and  inexor- 
able logic  of  the  theory.  The  same  definitions  that  define 
away  original  sin  are  also  incompatible  with  the  proper  doc- 
trine of  justification.  Adam  and  Christ  stand  together.  If 
Adam's  sin  is  only  the  "  occasion  "  of  our  sin,  then  is  Christ's 
righteousness  only  the  "  occasion  "  of  our  righteousness.  If 
there  is  no  moral  nexus  in  the  one  case,  there  can  be  none  in 
the  other — on  the  "  consistent "  exercise  theory.  Though 
Emmons  sometimes  concedes  that  Christ's  death  is  the  "  occa- 
sion "  of  God's  granting  innumerable  favors  to  mankind,  yet, 
speaking  strictly,  he  says  :  "  God  grants  regenerating  grace  to 
whom  he  pleases,  as  an  act  of  mere  sovereignty,  without  any 
particular  respect  to  the  death  or  atonement  of  Christ."  Such 
a  statement  as  this,  in  connection  with  his  view  about  our 
•'  being  rewarded  solely  on  the  ground  of  good  works,"  is  a 
sad  illustration  of  the  power  of  an  unbending  logic,  when  based 
upon  a  partial  theory.  It  emphatically  indicates,  that  Christ 
has  not  that  central  and  comprehensive  position  in  this  theo- 
retic scheme,  which  he  has  in  the  Scriptures,  and  in  the  expe- 
rience of  belie\'ers.  We  say,  in  the  theoretic  scheme,  because 
we  would  not  for  an  instant  imply  that  Emmons  did  not  fully 
believe  all  that  the  Scriptures  assert  about  Christ.  But  his 
theory  obliged  him  to  assign  to  Christ  only  the  position  of  re- 
moving the  obstacle  to  forgiveness,  and  then  to  let  a  mere 
moral  system  (the  exercises,  as  containing,  all  that  is  moral) 
run  on  its  own  course — having  indeed  respect  to  Christ,  as,  in 
the  divine  decree,  the  occasion  of  blessings,  but  not  as  their 
meritorious  source  and  ground.  The  matter  lay  in  his  mind 
thus  :  the  sinner  must  first  o-et  throuo;h  with  the  decree  of  dec- 


SIN    THE    NECESSARY   MEANS    OF    THE    GREATEST    GOOD.       251 

tion,  and  then  he  may  trust  in  Christ.  Thus  in  his  compen- 
dious statement  of  his  own  views,  we  read  (Memoir,  p.  42S) : 
"  That  sinners  must  exercise  unconditional  submission  to  God 
before  they  can  exercise  faith  in  Christ."  Love  and  repent- 
ance both  come  before  faith  in  Christ  (Memoir,  pp.  36G-7). 
In  his  dread  of  Antinomianisra,  he  ran  into  the  counter  ex- 
treme. As  his  exercises  lacked  a  psychology,  so  was  his  the- 
olog}'  deficient  in  its  Christology. 

The  two  other  points  that  cliaracterize  the  system  of  Em- 
mons, he  shares  vv'ith  the  body  of  the  old  Ilopkinsians,  as  they 
are  usually  interpreted,  viz.,  that  sin  is  the  necessary  means 
of  the  greatest  good  ;  and  that  unconditional  submission,  in 
the  form  of  a  willingness  to  be  lost  (damned),  is  the  fitting 
test  of  regeneration.  As  the  divine  agency  is  the  efficient 
cause  of  all  events  and  acts,  so  is  the  divine  glory  the  final 
cause  or  end  of  the  system  ;  and  the  ultimate  reason  for  the 
existence  of  sin  is,  that  it  is  necessary  to  manifest  the  full 
declarative  glory  of  the  Most  High  :  sin  is  in  this  sense  the 
necessary  means  of  the  greatest  good.  And  if  that  divine  glory 
demands  our  everlasting  condemnation,  we  must  be  submis- 
sive to  it :  if  need  be,  we  ought  to  be  willing  to  be  condemned 
forever.  And  thus  Emmons  did  not  falter  or  waver  in  his 
logic.  He  was  thoroughly  consistent  w  ith  his  fundamental 
assumptions  in  all  their  deductions.  In  apology  for  his  posi- 
tion about  sin  as  the  necessary  "  means  "  of  the  greatest  good, 
it  is  suggested,  that  by  "  means  "  he  only  means  "  occasion  " 
(Memoir,  p.  403).  But  the  word  "  occasion  "  seems  too  in- 
definite to  express  his  accurate  meaning.  Though  he  did  not 
assert  that  sin  is  the  direct  means  of  good,  in  its  own  nature 
(it  could  not  be  this,  since  it  is  essentially  evil),  yet  he  cer- 
tainly did  maintain  that  it  is  necessary  to  the  full  manifesta- 
tion of  the  glory  of  God — so  necessary,  that  God  created  it  for 
this  end.  His  plain  position  is,  "  that  there  is  the  same  kind, 
if  not  the  same  degree  of  necessity  in  the  divine  mind,  to  cre- 
ate sinful,  as  to  create  holy  beings ;  "  that  ''  all  the  goodness 
of  God  in  all  its  branches  could  not  have  been  displayed,  if 
natural  and  moral  evil  had  not  existed  ;  "  and  aa-ain,  if  God 


252  THE    THEOLOGICAL    SYSTEM    OF   ElVDIONS. 

meant  to  display  all  his  goodness  in  creation,  he  was  obliged 
to  bring  into  being  objects  upon  which  he  might  display  both 
his  justice  and  mercy"  (iv.,  254).  Does  the  indefinite  word 
"  occasion  "  express  the  sum  of  these  statements  ?  Kor  is  this 
all,  for  he  even  goes  so  far  in  his  inferences  as  to  say  (iv.,  37-1), 
that  though  men  are  bound  to  repent  of  their  own  criminality, 
yet,  "  since  all  their  sinful  conduct  may  be  ascribed  to  God, 
who  ordained  it  for  his  own  glory,  and  whose  agency  was  con- 
cerned in  it,  they  have  no  7'easonto  he  sorry  that  any  evil  action 
or  event  tooh  jplace^  He  illustrates  it  by  the  case  of  Joseph's 
brethren,  who,  when  they  saw  the  good  accomplished  by  the 
selling  of  their  brother,  "  could  not  have  been  sorry  for  this, 
without  being  sorry  for  God's  conduct,"  etc.  This  is  surely 
sufficientl}^  explicit,  and  it  shows  that  he  could  hardly  have 
used  the  term  "  occasion  "  to  express  his  own  position  in  its 
real  sense.  So,  too,  as  to  the  "  willingness  to  be  damned,"  as 
the  phrase  runs.  He  did  not,  we  are  told,  really  mean  to  say 
"  damned  ;  "  he  only  said  "  lost " — a  milder  word,  of  the  saaie 
import.  This  theory  is  also  resolved  by  his  defenders  into 
the  general  dutj^  of  submission  (the  caption  under  which  the 
Memoir  discussed  it  is,  "  Harmony  of  Disinterested  Submis- 
sion to  God  with  Love  to  Self  ").  Very  true — it  is  submission, 
but  it  is  submission,  not  in  a  general,  but  in  a  very  definite 
and  peculiar  form — at  war  with  the  primary  instinct  of  self- 
love,  as  well  as  with  the  benevolence  and  grace  of  the  Gospel. 
God  never  demanded  of  an}'  creature  to  be  willing  to  be  lost. 
And  no  ingenuity  of  deduction  can  warrant  such  a  terrible 
questioning  and  torture  of  the  soul.  It  is  a  logical  rack,  and 
not  a  scriptural  test.  The  most  ingenious  explanation  of  the 
theory  is  that  of  Emmons  himself  in  his  reply  to  Stuart  (Me- 
moir, pp.  397-400);  and  his  argument  shows  that  he  included 
in  this  test  not  only  the  willingness  to  suffer  pain,  but  also  the 
willingness  to  be  in  a  '■''future''''  state  of  "disobedience  and 
rebellion."  And  this  settles  the  matter  as  far  as  Christian 
consciousness  and  the  Bible  are  concerned.  It  is  a  self-sub- 
versive and  revolting  test  of  a  regenerate  condition.  The  test 
includes  a  bribe ;  for,  if  we  are  willing  to  be  lost,  we  never 


NEW    ENGLAND    AND    DE.  EMMONs's    THEOLOGY.  253 

shall  be.     And  this  fearful  test  is  the  inexorable  logic  of  the 
combined  efficiency  and  exercise  schemes. 

And  this  rigid  and  consistent  scheme  was  not  confined  to 
the  closet  of  the  student,  and  the  discussions  of  a  theological 
class,  but  it  was  enforced  as  the  measure  and  standard  of  re- 
ligious exjierience;  it  was  made  the  touch-stone  of  the  new 
life.  Emmons  himself,  we  are  told,  "  adopted  the  new  the- 
ology and  experienced  the  new  birth  at  one  and  the  same 
time  "  (Memoir,  p.  37) ;  and  the  disciples  were  as  the  master. 
In  this  too  he  was  a  faithful  exponent  of  some  New  England 
tendencies  ;  the  most  abstruse  and  metaphysical  dogmas  have 
there  been  worked  into  the  heart  and  life,  as  nowhere  else  in 
the  world.  The  abstractions  of  theological  systems  have  been 
the  turning-point  in  the  renewal  of  the  soul.  No  other  people 
ever  passed  through  such  a  process.  And  not  more  than  one 
generation,  even  of  New  England  men  and  women,  could 
bear  the  scrutiny  of  the  searching  dogmas  of  Emmons.  They 
were  too  much  even  for  regenerate  human  nature,  as  yet  sanc- 
tified only  in  part.  And  if  too  bitter  for  saints— what  must 
they  have  been  to  sinners,  inclined  by  nature  to  Arminianism 
and,  by  unenlightened  common  sense,  to  Unitarianism  ?  There 
were  in  those  days  other  sharp  men  in  New  England  besides 
the  orthodox.  Orthodoxy  in  their  view  became  identified 
with  the  dogmas  that  God  is  the  author  of  sin,  that  men 
should  be  willing  to  be  cast  off  forever,  and  the  like  hyper- 
boles of  hyper-CalvinisuL  Not  only  so,  Emmons  also  gave 
into  their  hands  some  of  the  strongest  arguments  against  the 
older  Calvinism.  They  took  his  exercises  and  discarded  the 
all-controlling  efficiency;  they  adopted  his  ethical  maxims, 
divorced  from  his  rigid  supernaturalism.  He  averred  that  all 
that  is  moral  is  in  exercises,  so  did  they.  He  denied  imputa- 
tion and  the  covenants,  inability  and  limited  atonement,  and 
they  were  agreed.  He  said  the  rewards  of  heaven  are  for  our 
personal  obedience,  and  they  thought  this  very  natural.  They 
chimed  in  with  his  abstractions,  about  its  being  as  easy  to 
repent  as  to  walk  or  eat.  He  made  the  essence  of  virtue  to 
consist  in  impartial  love  ;  and  on  this  point  Channing  also 


254  THE    THEOLOGICAL    SYSTEM    OF    EMMONS. 

followed  Hopkins.  His  theory  made  this  love  to  be  the  es- 
sence of  the  new  birth,  and  heterodox  men  said  they  liad  this 
k)ve,  and  of  conrse  were  born  ao-ain.  Ennnons  brono-ht  everv- 
thing  abont  Christ  in  his  relation  to  ns,  excepting  pardon 
alone,  under  the  head  of  sovereignty,  and  "  liberal  "  thinkers 
brought  pardon,  too,  under  the  same  category.  He  subordi- 
nated the  exercises  to  the  efhciency,  and  they  subordinated 
the  efficiency  to  the  exercises.  He  believed  in  the  Trinity, 
the  Incarnation,  the  decrees  ;  but  they  said,  if  they  could  only 
have  holy  love  (the  essence  of  the  new  life)  without  these  hard 
doctrines,  that  they  hardly  thought  them  essential  to  salvation. 
No  Emmonsite  reasoned  in  this  way,  but  there  were  many  in 
New  England,  who  were  repelled  from  orthodoxy  by  the  logical 
consequences  of  the  efficiency  theory,  and  who  were  confirmed 
in  heterodoxy  by  the  logical  inferences  from  the  exercise 
scheme — each  of  conrse  being  taken,  unfairly  to  Emmons,  by 
itself  alone.  But  heretics  cannot  be  expected  to  be  compre- 
liensive ;  heresy,  in  its  etymology,  is  something  "taken" — a 
part  taken, — and  the  whole  left. 

The  truth  is — as  our  whole  exposition  shows,  there  were  in 
Emmons  two  systems,  both  held  in  the  most  extreme  and  logi- 
cal form.  Sir  James  Emerson  Tennent,  in  his  work  on  Ceylon, 
says,  that  in  the  chameleon  there  is  an  imperfect  sympathy 
between  the  two  lobes  of  the  brain  and  the  two  sets  of  nerves 
which  permeate  the  opposite  sides  of  its  frame.  One  side  may 
be  fast  asleep,  while  the  other  side  is  wide  awake  ;  and  the 
poor  creature  cannot  make  them  act  together.  There  is  a  like 
imperfect  sympathy  between  the  efficiency  scheme,  and  the 
exercise  theory,  of  Emmons.  They  are  not  organically  uni- 
fied. They  are  not  really  harmonized,  but  held  together,  not 
by  a  rational  idea,  but  by  the  force  of  will — his  own  will 
(subjectively),  and  the  will  of  God  (objectively).  Stat  pro 
ratione  voluntas.  His  conception  of  the,  created  universe  is 
that  of  a  series  of  perfectly  distinct  events  and  exercises,  pro- 
duced at  every  instant  by  an  immediate,  divine  energy.  It  is 
an  atomic  naturalism  engrafted  upon  an  extreme  and  arbitrary 
supernaturalism.     The  conception  of  anything  akin  to  a  real 


>T0    PKOPER    DEVELOrMENT    TN    THE    STSTE:M.  255 

organism,  or  a  proper  development,  is  entirely  wanting.  The 
unity  of  the  race  is  not  a  real  historic  continuity,  but  an  arbi- 
trary divine  constitution.  And  then,  in  constructing  the  sys- 
tem, all  events  and  exercises  are,  in  effect,  parcelled  out,  doc- 
trinally,  under  the  two  rubrics  of  divine  and  creature  agencv. 
One  set  of  doctrines  sets  forth  the  divine  agency ;  another  set 
of  doctrines  sets  forth  the  human  activity.  And  both  cover, 
where  they  concur,  the  same  subject  matter,  which  is  at  one 
time  viewed  as  all  divine,  and  at  another  time  viewed  as  all 
human.  And  the  only  union  between  the  two,  which  Em- 
mons knows,  is  found  in  the  divine  efficiency  itself.  He  did 
all  that  a  man  of  the  greatest  keenness  could  do,  in  his  at- 
tempts at  mediation  on  this  basis.  But  his  mediations  are 
unreal,  formal,  and  abstract.  Thus,  as  we  have  seen,  sove- 
reignty and  free  agency  are  reconciled,  by  saying,  that  Gcxl 
creates  the  volitions  free  ;  God  is  defended  from  the  charge  of 
being  the  author  of  sin,  chiefly  on  the  ground,  that  "  sin  is 
one  thing,"  and  ''  the  taking  place  of  sin  "  quite  another  thing  ; 
though  God's  sovereignty  and  his  moral  government  are  said 
to  cover  equally  all  acts,  yet  so  sharp  a  distinction  is  made 
between  theui,  that  it  is  claimed  God  as  a  sovereign  can 
create  a  moral  act,  which,  as  a  moral  governor,  he  is  bound 
to  punish.  By  asserting,  that  the  same  act  is,  in  one  aspect, 
"wholly  the  product  of  divine  energy,"  and,  in  another  as- 
pect, "  wholly  the  act  of  the  creature  "  (being  made  his), 
Emmons  seems  to  think,  that  he  lias  solved  the  problem  of 
dependence  and  free  agency — "a  seeming  difficulty  which 
runs  through  the  whole  Bible"  (iv.,  871).  But  this  is  simply 
statement  and  distinction,  not  solution  or  reconciliation.  He 
confounds  clear,  abstract  distinctions  with  the  truth  itself.  A 
definite,  intelligible  proposition  is  his  ideal  —  and  also  the 
reality.  As  if  theology,  like  mathematics,  were  a  science  of 
deffiiitions  and  deductions !  But  in  such  a  system,  so  clear 
and  paradoxical,  one  of  the  antagonistic  elements  must  get  the 
upper  hand,  and  the  other  be  subjected  with  a  strong  arm ; 
one  must  be  the  reality,  and  the  other  an  illusion.  And  there 
can  be  no  question,  that  in  the  logical  resuhs  of  this  theoiy, 


256  THE    THEOLOGICAL    SYSTEM    OF    E>mONS. 

the  reality  is  in  tlie  divine  agency,  and  that  the  alle^-ed  free- 
dom and  power  of  the  creature  is  an  nnreal  and  vanishing 
factor  in  the  victorious  and  irresistible  march  of  the  divine 
decree.  Freedom  and  responsibility  could  only  be  saved  by 
a  revolt  against  his  hj'per-Calvinistic  necessarianism ;  by  a 
psj'chology,  which  should  give  a  real  human  substratnm  to 
the  volitions.  In  his  theory  the  volition  was  made  perfectly 
free,  natnral  ability  was  strained  to  the  utmost  so  as  to  endure 
tlie  pressure  of  the  divine  agency ;  and  the  tensiou  between 
the  efficiency  and  the  exercises  became  so  intense,  that  the 
two  snapt  asunder  and  parted  comj^any.  His  dogma  of  divine 
efficiency  was  left  with  himself,  and  his  ethical  and  voluntary 
exercises  went  on  their  way  rejoicing,  under  other  auspices. 
And  he  himself  stands  alone  in  New  England  theology,  to 
sho^y  us  what  a  gi-eat  man  can  do  and  say,  when  he  attempts 
impossibilities — that  is,  when  he  attempts  to  make  botli  the 
divine  agency  and  human  freedom  absolute.  If  the  feat 
could  be  performed,  it  was  in  the  way  he  attempted  it.  If 
anybody  wishes  to  hold  the  essence  of  Calvinism,  that  is,  that 
the  will  of  God  is  all  in  all,  together  with  the  essence  of  Ar- 
minianism,  that  is,  that  the  will  of  man  is  absolutely  contin- 
gent, it  can  only  be  by  exaggerating  Calvinism  into  the 
position  that  the  divine  will  creates  the  human  exercises. 
Calvinism  must  be  exalted  into  hyper-Calvinism,  or  else  the 
exercises  will  land  us  in  an  entirely  different  system. 

This  would  be  made  still  more  evident,  if  we  could  follow 
out  the  system  of  Emmons,  in  its  influence  on  subsequent 
speculations.  Our  discussion  has  already  been  so  protracted, 
that  we  must  here  confine  ourselves  to  general  and  brief  state- 
ment. 

As  we  have  seen,  in  deference  to  his  ethics  and  exercises, 
he  parted  company  with  certain  traditional  dogmas,  inwrought 
into  the  Calvinistic  bodies  of  divinity^viz.,  imputation,  the 
covenants,  original  sin  and  hereditary  depravity  (including 
the  organic  and  moral  unity  of  the  race),  and  justification 
under  tlie  relation  of  conferring  a  title  to  eternal  life.  Now, 
it  might  easily  be  shown,  that  these  doctrines,  thus  excluded 


INFLUENCE    OF    EMMONS    ON    THE    OLD    IIOPKINSIANISM.     257 

(shearing  them  off  as  "  fag-ends  "),  are  for  the  most  part  the 
very  doctrines  by  which  historical  Calvinism  has  endeavored 
to  mitigate  or  avoid  the  pressure  and  logical  conclusions  from 
the  strictest  theory  of  diviue  sovereignty — so  that  the  pro- 
cedures of  God  in  respect  to  sin  and  salvation  should  not  seem 
to  be  the  acts  of  arbitrary  sovereignty,  but  the  regulated  and 
ordered  course  of  a  moral  system,  intended  for  the  whole  race. 
These  doctrines  are  the  ones  by  which  the  awe-inspiring  de- 
cree (horribile  decretum — in  Calvin's  sense,  not  "  horrible  " 
but  fearful)  was  relieved  from  the  stigma,  that  it  made  God 
the  author  of  sin,  and,  in  an  equally  arbitrary  way,  of  re- 
demption. But  Emmons's  "  exercises  "  compelled  him  to  re- 
ject all  imputations  and  covenants.  Strictly  taken,  they  left  no 
place  for  any  other  than  a  merely  moral  or  legal  system — 
unless  the  divine  sovereignty  were  enforced  with  redoubled 
emphasis.  Being  a  Calvinist,  he  chose  the  latter  course  ;  and 
hence,  of  all  Calvinists  he  is  most  strenuous  about  predestina- 
tion, election,  reprobation,  and  tlie  affiliated  doctrines.  In 
short,  he  made  his  exercises  Calvinistic  only  by  the  violent 
process  of  representing  them  as  the  product  of  the  direct 
agency  of  the  Most  High.  He  retained  of  Calvinism  chiefly 
that  doctrine  which  is  most  easily  perverted,  and  represented 
it  in  the  form  most  liable  to  perversion.  Such  was  his  posi- 
tion in  relation  to  the  old  Calvinism. 

But  this  "  giant,  with  a  hundred  athletes  in  his  train,"  as 
the  Memoir  strikingly  describes  him,  also  produced  a  decided 
effect  upon  the  old  Hopkinsian  school ;  he  rent  it  in  twain, 
into  the  men  of  Taste,  and  the  men  of  Exercises  (all  mighty 
men) ;  and  this  provincial  phraseology  denotes  an  important 
distinction.  The  larger  part  of  the  Hopkinsians  were  not 
ready  to  sanction  the  position,  that  all  that  is  moral  is  in  Exer- 
cises, in  Emmons's  sense,  that  is,  in  Volitions  (volition  with  him 
including  the  affections,  and  being  equivalent  to  heart).  They 
distinguished  between  heart  and  will,  feeling  and  action,  the 
ground  or  source  of  the  exercises,  and  the  exercises  themselves. 
They  held,  with  Edwards,  that  there  is  a  '  principle '  or  '  foun- 
dation '  for  the  exercises  or  volitions,  and  that  this  '  taste  '  or 
17 


258  THE    THEOLOGICAL    SYSTEM    OF   EMMONS. 

'  principle' is  the  real  seat  of  moral  character.  They  had  a 
better  psychology  than  Emmons.  Here  stood  Burton,  to  whom 
we  have  already  referred.*  And  this  too  was  the  gromid  of 
the  venerated  Dr.  Woods  of  Andover,  who  receded  from  the 
peculiar  phrases  of  the  school,  in  pi-oportion  to  the  enlarge- 
ment of  his  experience  as  a  teacher  of  tlieology.  It  was  a 
kind  providence  for  the  New  England  cliurches,  that  when 
the  violent  abstractions  of  '  efficiency '  and  '  exercises '  were 
waging  such  warfare,  and  leading  to  such  results,  a  man  like 
Dr.  Woods  was  called  to  the  chair  oi  theology  in  the  seminary 
at  Andover.  He  is  emphatically  the  'judicious '  divine  of  the 
later  New  England  theology.  He  educated  a  genei-ation  of 
preachers,  who  had  neither  crotchets  nor  airy  whims.  And 
Moses  Stuart,  too,  with  all  his  versatility,  became  a  rich  bless- 
ing to  the  cliurches,  by  training  their  preachers  in  the  more 
thorough  study  of  the  whole  truth,  as  revealed  with  open  face 
in  the  inspired  Word. 

But  the  extreme  positions  which  Emmons  deduced  from 
both  his  Efficiency  and  Exercise  schemes  led  to  a  more  radical 
dissent  and  reaction.  As  we  have  seen,  his  "  consistent  Cal- 
vinism "  emerged  in  the  three  dogmas — that  sin  is  the  product 
of  the  divine  efficiency,  that  it  is  necessary  to  the  full  mani- 
festation of  the  divine  glory,  and  that,  for  the  sake  of  this 
glory,  men  should  be  willing  to  be  "  lost."  On  the  other 
hand,  his  exercise  scheme  led  to  the  inferences,  that  all  that 
is  moral  is  in  volitions  (excluding  original  sin),  and  that  man 
has  natural  ability  to  repent,  etc.  But  this  natural  ability,  as 
we  have  stated,  still  needed  to  be  backed  up  by  a  soul — and 
these  volitions  cried  out  for  a  real  human  nature  as  a  sub- 

*  One  of  the  ablest  of  these  Taste  men  was  Judge  Nathaniel  Niles,  of  Ver- 
mont, who,  it  is  said,  was  the  rival  of  Dr.  Burton  in  the  honor  of  being  the 
founder  of  the  Taste  school.  How  strongly  the  men  of  this  stamp  were  op- 
posed to  the  peculiarities  of  the  Emmons  school  is  seen  in  an  acute  pam- 
phlet, now  little  known,  entitled  :  "A  Letter  to  a  Friend,  who  received  his 
Theological  Education  under  the  Instruction  of  Dr.  Emmons,  concerning 
the  Doctrine  which  teaches  that  Impenitent  Sinners  have  Natural  Power  to 
make  themselves  New  Hearts.  By  Nathaniel  Niles,  A.M."  Windsor,  1809. 
It  is  one  of  the  most  valuable  relics  of  this  controversy. 


EMMONS    AND    THE    CONNECTICUT   DIVINES.  259 

Stratum.     The  peculiarity  of  the  reaction  that  ensued  (chiefiy 
ill  the  New  Haven  scliool)  consisted,  in  the  first  place,  in  the 
introduction  of  such  a  psychology,  giving  to  the  exercises  a 
living  source  and  centre— and,  then,  in  arraying  the  exercise 
scheme  against  the  doctrine  of  the   divine  etiiciency.     The 
Connecticut  divines  as  a  Mdiole  never  favored  the  tendency 
represented  by  Emmons ;  Bellamy,  Smalley,  and  Dwight  op- 
posed it,  and  Dr.  Taylor  brought  the  discussion,  in  the  sharpest 
way,  to  direct  issues.     He  adopted  the  exercise  scheme,  so  far 
as  it  asserted  that  all  that  is  moral  is  in  acts  of  the  will,  de- 
fined natural  ability  as  implying  full  "  power  to  the  contrary," 
and  made  self-love  to  be  the  germinant  principle  of  ethics. 
He  not  only  reinstated  the  human  soul  in  its  native  rights 
(reuniting  the  dispersed  exercises,  the  diaspora,  in  a  living, 
personal  centre),  but  he  also  atfirmed,  with  the  Taste  men,  the 
existence  of  susceptibilities,  tendencies,  dispositions,  antece- 
dent to  voluntary  action.     But  as  he  also  held  that  all  that  is 
moral  is  in  voluntary  action,  he  of  course  said,  that  these  ten- 
dencies and  dispositions  have  no  moral  chai-acter ;  and  here  he 
left  the  Taste  men.    This  changed  the  whole  aspect  of  the  old 
exercise  scheme.     He  could,  and  must,  now  say  what  the  old 
Hopkinsians  never  did,  or  could  say— that  a  complete  human 
nature  exists  for  a  time,  be  it  more  or  less,  in  the  descendants 
of  Adam,  in  a  neutral  moral  state.     This  was  the  very  posi- 
tion which  the  old  Hopkinsians,  Emmons  included,  were  al- 
ways striving  to  avoid,  as  utterly  inconsistent  with  tlie  Biblical 
representation  of  the  effects  of  the  Adamic  transgression.     So, 
too,  he  brought  his  theory  of  tlie  will,  as  essentially  the  power 
of  contrary  choice,  to  bear  against  the  dogma,  that  God  creates 
free  volitions.    His  Scotch  psychology  demanded  a  pause,  as  it 
were,  in  the  direct  divine  agency,  so  as  to  give  the  faculties  of 
the  soul  a  chance  to  work  out  the  volition— intellect,  feelino-s, 
and  will  preceding  the  first  moral  choice.     The  volition  no 
longer  came  through  tlie  will  of  God  alone,  but  also  through 
the  agency  of  the  human  powers  coming  to  the  point  of  deci- 
sion.    And  as  he  made  self-love  tlie  spring  of  all  voluntary 
action,  and  happiness  its  end,  so  too  he  mightily  opposed  the 


200  THE    THEOLOGICAL    SYSTEM    OF    EMMONS. 

inculcation  of  a  willingness  to  be  damned  ;  for  in  his  view 
this  implied  the  annulling  of  the  primary  instinct  of  human 
nature.  Nor  conld  he  consistently  hold  to  the  Hopkinsian 
theodicy,  that  sin  is  the  necessary  means  of  the  greatest  good  ; 
he  levelled  against  it,  not  only  the  precepts  of  the  divine  law 
and  the  prescriptions  of  the  moral  sense,  but  also,  and  chiefly, 
the  doctrine  of  natural  ability,  transformed  into  the  power  to 
the  contrary.  He  formally  denied  the  old  theory,  and  affirmed, 
that  sin  is  not  necessary,  but  incidental  to  the  best  system; 
and  that  it  is  incidental,  because  a  free  agent,  having  the 
power  of  contrary  choice,  may  sin,  in  spite  of  Omnipotence. 
Thus  skilfully  did  this  acute  theologian  bring  the  exercises  of 
the  Emmonsite  theology  to  bear  against  its  dogma  of  efficien- 
cy; he  used  its  left  hand  to  disable  its  right  hand.  He  took 
the  attitude  of  fair  and  square  antagonism  to  the  three  main 
positions  of  the  older  theory.  The  dogma  of  divine  efficiency 
he  confronted  with  the  theory  of  human  efficiency;  disinter- 
ested benevolence  in  the  form  of  a  willingness  to  be  damned 
he  opposed  by  making  self-love  the  root  of  moral  action  ;  and, 
so  far  was  he  from  asserting  that  sin  is  necessary  to  the  great- 
est good,  that  he  affirmed  that  it  was  better  accounted  for  by 
saying,  that  even  Omnipotence  may  not  be  able  to  prevent  all 
sin  in  a  moral  system.  Thus  while  the  divine  will  is  the  con- 
structive idea  of  whatever  is  peculiar  in  the  one  system,  the 
human  will,  moved  by  self-love,  is  the  constructive  idea  of  all 
that  is  peculiar  in  the  other  system.  The  antagonism  is  sharp 
and  complete  on  all  the  main  points.  The  attempt  in  each 
scheme  is  to  frame  a  system  on  the  idea  of  will — the  difference 
being,  that  in  the  old  school  an  omnipotent  divine  will,  and 
in  the  new  school  a  contingent  human  will,  is  the  prime  factor. 
And  the  result  of  the  whole  controversy  was  to  show  the  inad- 
equacy of  each  to  the  proposed  task.  Each  system  led  to 
.conclusions  at  war  with  the  Scriptures  and  Christian  experi- 
ence, and  this,  too,  on  just  the  points  most  characteristic  of 
the  respective  theories.  The  one  could  not  free  God  from  the 
charge  of  being  the  cause  of  sin,  made  sin  necessary  to  the 
declarative  glory  of  the  Holy  One,  and   exacted  of  man  an 


DK.  TATLOK  S    COURSE.  261 

impossible  test  of  regeneration,  at  once  unreal  and  full  of  tor- 
ture to  the  soul.  The  other  system  so  exalted  the  power  of  the 
human  will,  that  it  became,  in  the  power  to  the  contrary,  an 
unreal  abstraction;  it  denied  the  "categorical  imperative"  of 
duty,  by  resolving  right  into  happiness;  and  it  defended  the 
divine  permission  of  sin  by  limiting  the  divine  omnipotence. 
Each  was  strong  in  refuting,  neither  in  building  up.  Each 
shows  very  clearly  that  the  peculiar  views  of  the  other  cannot 
be  maintained. 

Dr.  Taylor,  in  this  controversy,  took  the  only  consistent 
course,  and  did  not  aim  at  any  unreal  compromise.  He  never 
thought  of  representing  his  system  as  identical  with  the  one 
he  was  opposing,  bating  a  difference  of  phraseology  or  em- 
phasis. He  knew  perfectly  well  that  he  could  iind  some  of 
the  germs  of  his  own  theory  in  the  minor  kej^  of  the  old 
school;  but  he  did  not  intimate  that  they  habitually  sung 
their  tunes  on  this  key.  He  knew,  too,  that  the  way  in  which 
antagonistic  systejns  are  developed  is  almost  always  just  this 
— that  what  is  subordinate  in  the  one  becomes  supreme  in  its 
opposite.  The  change  of  relative  j^osition  is  indeed  all ;  but 
then,  too,  it  is  quite  enough.  It  is  the  only  logical  attitude 
which  related  thoughts,  that  suggest  each  other,  can  assume 
even  in  opposite  systems.  The  contest  is  always  for  suprem- 
acy and  not  for  annihilation. 

Hence,  too,  it  is  possible  for  modern  Hopkinsians  to  quote 
many  a  passage  fj-om  the  old  divines,  which  seems  to  favor 
their  views,  while  it  is  still  true  that  the  systems  are  entirely 
different  in  their  spirit,  methods,  results,  and  sympathies. 
What  an  old-fashioned  Ennnonsite  made  supreme  in  the 
scheme  is  now  made  subordinate  ;  and  what  he  made  subor- 
dinate is  now  made  supreme.  That  is  all.  The  impression 
made  by  the  Memoir  of  Emmons  is,  that  he  held  to  exercises 
definitely,  and  to  the  divine  efiiciency  indefinitely ;  the  im- 
pression made  by  a  volume  of  Emmons's  sermons  is,  that  he 
held  to  both  definitely,  and  subjected  the  exercises  to  the 
efficiency.  His  propositions  about  God  bear  che  stamp  of 
inherent  life  and  reality  ;  if  there  is  anything  essentiallv  un- 


262  THE   THEOLOGICAL    SYSTEM    OF    EMMONS. 

real  in  his  system,  it  is  in  liis  propositions  about  man.  He 
did  indeed  npliold  the  three  radicals  (now  so-called)  of  the 
New  England  theology,  viz.,  that  all  chat  is  moral  is  in  exer- 
cises, that  ability  is  equal  to,  and  limits,  obligation  ;  he  held 
them,  but  he  held  them  in  check.  He  spent  his  toilsome  and 
thoughtful  life  in  elaborating  a  system  to  show,  that  though 
God's  agency  is  always  creative,  yet  man  may  still  be  free  ; 
he  had  no  idea  of  a  system  which  says,  that  because  man  is 
free,  God  cannot  be  the  immediate  efficient  cause  of  human 
volitions.  The  old  system  affirmed,  that  God  creates  all 
events  and  acts ;  that  he  created  Adam  holy  ;  tJiat  he  creates 
sinful  acts  ;  that  sin  is  the  necessary  means  of  the  greatest 
good ;  tliat  we  must  be  willing  to  be  lost  in  order  to  be  saved  ; 
it  also  affirms  that  there  is  no  soul  (conceivable)  before  tlie 
exercises  ;  that  the  exercises  are  either  wholly  holy  or  wholly 
sinful ;  and  that  holy  exercises  are  the  only  title  to  eternal 
life.  Modern  Hopkinsianism  denies  that  God  creates  sin  ;  it 
denies  that  he  creates  holiness ;  it  denies  that  sin  is  the  neces- 
sary means  of  the  greatest  good  ;  it  denies  that  we  must  be 
willing  to  be  lost  in  order  to  be  saved  ;  and  it  also  affirms, 
that  there  must  be  a  soul  and  tendencies  before  volition  ; 
that  this  soul  is  in  a  neutral  moral  state ;  and  that  it  is  not 
luminous  to  say,  that  Paradise  is  the  reward  of  our  works. 
And  yet,  it  is  insinuated  that  the  systems  are  the  same,  be- 
cause both  equally  hold,  that  all  that  is  moral  is  in  exercises, 
and  that  ability  is  equal  to  obligation.  But  to  discard  all  the 
former  positions  is  to  discard  Ennnonsism  ;  and  to  affirm  the 
latter,  is  to  affirm,  not  the  essence,  but  the  accidents,  of  the 
old  Ilopkinsian  theology.  The  resemblance  is  verbal,  the 
difference  is  radical. 

The  theological  system  of  Dr.  Emmons  is  undoubtedly  one 
of  the  most  original  and  instructive  in  the  histoiy  of  theolog- 
ical science  in  this  country.  His  biographer  has  led  ns  to 
love  and  honor  more  thtln  ever  that  simple,  noble,  acute,  and 
consistent  man.  He  spent  his  days  and  his  nights  in  the  nn- 
wearied  search  for  divine  wisdom.  He  failed  in  construct- 
ing a  complete  system  of  truth,  because  with  his  data  and 


"kEAD   EMMONS."  263 

factors,  it  was  a  sheer  impossibility.  With  Dr.  Pond,  we 
inaj'  say :  "  Read  Emmons  ;  by  all  means  read  Emmons  "  ; 
bat  so  read  him  as  to  see,  that  neither  in  the  divine  efficiency, 
nor  in  human  exercises,  neither  in  mere  sovereignty,  nor  in 
mere  ethics,  can  we  find  the  formative  or  central  principle 
of  Christian  theology  as  a  science.  For  the  one  leads  to  an 
arbitrary  determinism  on  the  divine  side ;  the  other  must 
ascribe  an  equally  arbitrary  self-determining  power  to  man. 
But  no  such  abstractions,  on  the  one  side  or  the  other,  how- 
ever clearly  stated,  and  no  definitions  based  on  them,  can 
satisfy  the  demand  for  a  system  of  theology  at  once  Scrip- 
tural, rational,  and  conformed  to  Christian  experience. 
Neither  is  theology  to  be  sacrificed  to  anthropology,  nor  an- 
thropology to  theology.  The  centre  of  Christian  divinity  is 
not  in  God,  nor  in  man,  but  in  the  Godman.  Christian  the- 
ology is  essentially  a  Christology,  centering  in  facts,  not  de- 
duced from  metaphysical  or  ethical  abstractions.  Neither 
God's  agency,  nor  man's  will,  can  give  us  the  whole  system  ; 
but,  as  Calvin  says,  "  Christ  is  the  mirror  in  whom  we  may 
without  deception  contemplate  our  own  election."  Above 
the  strife  of  the  schools  rises  in  serene  and  untroubled 
majesty  the  radiant  form  of  the  Son  of  God,  the  embodiment 
and  reconciliation  of  divinity  and  humanity. 


CHRISTIAN    UNION 


ECCLESIASTICAL   REUNION.^ 


Fathers  and  Brethren: — It  is  just  three-quarters  of  a 
century  since  our  first  General  Assembly  met  in  the  city  of 
Philadelphia.  The  little  one  has  become  a  thousand.  The 
Presbyterian  Church  then  numbered  188  ministers  and  419 
churches;  from  these  have  sprung,  under  different  names, 
more  than  5,000  churches,  4,500  ministers  and  500,000  com- 
municants, representing  a  population  of  two  and  a  half  or 
three  millions.  Our  growth  and  history  have  been  deter- 
mined, we  trust,  by  a  Divinie  wisdom,  whose  counsels  never 
change  and  never  fail.  And  the  oracles  of  that  wisdom  still 
teach  us  the  lessons  needed  for  the  present  hour,  in  the  words 
by  which  Paul  describes  the  final  unity  and  perfection  of 
the  church,  in  his  epistle  to  tiie  Ephesians,  the  fourth  chap- 
ter, at  the  thirteenth  verse :  Till  we  all  come  in  the  unity  of 
the  faith  and  of  the  knowledge  of  the  Son  of  God,  unto  a 
perfect  man,  unto  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the  fullness 
of  Christ. 

Though  the  Son  of  God,  says  the  apostle,  ascended  on  high 
that  he  might  fill  all  things,  yet  be  condescended  to  give  to 
men  a  regal  ascension  gift,  that  of  the  ministry,  for  the  edi- 
fying of  the  body  of  Christ.     And  the  end  to  be  attained  by 

*  A  discourse  delivered  at  the  opening  of  the  General  Assembly  of  the 
Presbyterian  Church  in  the  United  States  of  America,  in  Dayton,  Ohio,  May 
19,  1864.  In  necessariis  unitas ;  in  non  necessariis  libsrtas ;  in  utrisque 
caritas.     [Dr.  Smith  was  the  retiring  Moderator.  — Ed  .] 


266  CHKISTIAN   UNION   AND   ECCLESIASTICAL   REUNION. 

this  gift  is,  that  all  the  church  become  one  in  faith  and  know- 
ledge, and  so  become  one,  that  it  shall  be,  as  it  were,  the 
eai'thly  counterpart  of  the  Redeemer.  Christ  is  one  person, 
divine  and  human,  and  so  is  tlie  church,  which  is  his  body,  to 
be  one  in  him.  As  the  end  of  the  first  creation  will  be  real- 
ized, when  it  becomes  the  unclouded  mirror  of  the  internal 
glory  of  the  Creator,  so  the  end  of  the  new  creation,  which  is 
grounded  in  the  incarnation,  will  be  reached,  w^ien  it  be- 
comes the  express  image  of  the  Incarnate  God,  when  it 
comes  to  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the  fullness  of  Clirist. 
Tliis  is  the  prophetic  hope,  the  ideal  end,  of  the  church  of 
our  Lord. 

This  we  say  is  the  ideal  of  the  church,  not  as  contrasted 
with  what  is  real,  but  as  expressing  its  true  idea,  its  inmost 
life,  one  of  its  formative  elements.  Its  very  growth,  if  it  be 
healthful,  must  be  a  growth  in  union  and  towards  unity,  just 
as  a  plant  is  held  together  while  it  grows  by  a  more  intense 
unifying  power  at  the  heart  of  its  life.  Tlie  church  in  its 
essence  is  a  spiritual  organism,  vitally  united  to  Christ,  and 
all  its  atoms  are  ensouled  by  the  common  life  of  one  and  the 
self-same  Spirit,  as  all  the  branches,  leaves,  flowers  and  fruit 
of  a  tree  are  made  one  by  the  common  sap.  For  by  one 
Spirit  are  we  all  baptized  into  one  body.  It  is  as  contrary  to 
the  true  idea  of  the  church  that  its  parts  should  be  schis- 
matic and  warring,  as  it  is  to  the  true  idea  of  a  full-grown 
man,  that  his  eye  should  say  to  his  hand,  I  have  no  need  of 
thee,  or,  again,  the  head  to  the  feet,  I  have  no  need  of  you. 
And  though  this  "note"  of  the  church  applies  in  an  eminent 
sense  only  to  the  radiant  bi'ide,  the  New  Jerusalem,  yet  it  is 
also  the  instinct  of  her  deepest  life  even  while  militant  here 
on  earth,  that  she  may  at  last  appear  before  her  divine  bride- 
groom, having  no  spot,  nor  wn-inlvle,  nor  any  such  thing,  and 
receive  from  his  loving  hands  the  seamless  robe  and  the 
victor's  crown. 

And  never  did  this  great  fact  of  the*  essential  oneness  of 
Christ's  church  and  of  the  especial  duty  of  the  ministry  to 
labor  for  it,  need  to  be  more  wisely  pondered  and  emphati- 


DISCORD    COSTS   MORE   THAN    CONCORD.  267 

call  J  urged,  than  in  the  present  state  of  Protestant  Christen- 
dom, and  in  view  of  the  relations  of  the  church  to  the  other 
great  interests  of  human  life  and  society  as  developed  in  our 
own  country.  In  the  rivalry  of  sects  we  are  apt  to  lose  sight 
of  the  prime  social  instinct  of  the  Christian  life.  The  uuity 
of  the  church  is  idealized,  while  its  disintegration  is  realized. 
The  only  idea  of  the  visible  church  which  many  seem  tO  have 
is  based  on  the  theory  of  a  social  compact,  long  since  aban- 
doned by  the  best  thinkers  in  relation  even  to  politics.  Terms 
of  communion  have  been  adopted  so  narrow  and  local,  that 
they  foster  only  dissension.  The  union  of  the  church  has  be- 
come a  figure  of  speech,  a  theme  of  sentimental  rhapsody ; 
its  consummation  is  post23oned  to  the  millennium.  And  then, 
as  Christian  fellowship  must  find  some  expression,  the  or- 
ganizing and  aggressive  vigor  of  the  Christian  life  has  been 
transferred  to  other  institutions,  which  often  take  the  proper 
work  of  the  church  out  of  its  hands,  and  use  their  power 
against  itself.  All  this,  too,  is  but  a  part  of  a  general  ten- 
dency which  shows  itself  in  the  state,  as  w^ell  as  the  church. 
The  vicious  sophism,  that  "  the  world  is  governed  too  much," 
has  borne  its  fruits  in  secession  and  rel)elliou.  Discord  costs 
more  than  concord.  Our  nation  is  now  vindicating  its  unity 
by  the  costliest  sacrifices.  Let  the  church  of  Christ  heed  tlie 
lesson,  scrutinize  the  disease  and  inquire  for  the  remedy. 
And  it  is  already  doing  it.  Many  true  hearts  in  different 
communions  feel  the  burden  of  these  evils.  Weary  of  strife, 
they  ask  for  peace.  In  view  of  past  feuds  and  bitterness, 
their  speech  is  low  out  of  the  dust.  And  though  this  longing 
for  union  is  as  yet  chiefly  in  the  form  of  feeling,  yet  feeling 
precedes  action.  Sentiments  may  seem  to  be  evanescent 
flowers;  but  all  fruit  is  only  a  full  grown  flower.  By  in- 
spiring such  longings,  the  great  Head  of  the  Church  may,  in 
his  own  garden,  be  preparing  a  golden  harvest.  We  are 
then  heeding  his  promises,  and  may  ask  for  his  guidance, 
when  we  consider  the  subject  of  Christian  Union  and  Ecclesi- 
astical Reunion,  to  which  our  text  invites  us.  And  we  pro- 
pose to  si^eak  of  it,  first,  in  its   more  general  aspects,  as  the 


268  CHKISTIAN    UNION    AND   ECCLESIASTICAI>   REUNION. 

goal  and  consummation  of  the  chui-ch ;  and  then,  in  its  par- 
ticular relation  to  ourselves  and  those  with  whom  we  are 
most  nearly  allied. 

1.  Our  first  topic  is  Christian  Union ;  not  uniformity,  nor 
even  unity  under  one  government,  but  union  in  its  wider  rela- 
tions. While  those  speculations  and  plans  which  look  to  an 
immediate  reunion  of  all  the  several  branches  of  the  church, 
must  still  be  regarded  as  impracticable  and  illusory,  yet  ten- 
dencies to  union  will  increase  with  the  sound  and  vital  growth 
of  the  church.  If  union  and  even  unity  is  to  be  the  consum- 
mation of  the  church,  then  its  progress  must  be  in  that  direc- 
tion. 

It  would  be  profitable,  did  our  time  admit,  to  inquire  into 
the  leading  causes  of  those  divisions  and  subdivisions  by 
which  Christian  union  has  been  frittered  away.  As  long  as 
there  is  imperfect  knowledge  or  imperfect  love  there  is  an 
element  of  discord ;  for  ignorance  and  sin  isolate  and  divide, 
while  wisdom  and  love  are  universal  and  tend  to  unity. 
Besides  this  general  cause,  two  potent  and  fruitful  principles 
of  division  and  alienation  may  be  traced  through  the  history  of 
the  church,  strongly  contrasted,  yet  both  working  in  the  same 
direction ;  the  one,  the  lust  of  ecclesiastical  domination,  the 
other  an  extreme  individualism.  The  former  enforces  con- 
formity to  external  rules  in  matters  non-essential,  and  so  runs 
into  spiritual  despotism  ;  the  latter  sets  up  the  individual  will, 
often  under  the  name  of  conscience,  in  opposition  to  the  gen- 
eral will  and  the  historic  order.  The  one  calls  itself  conserva- 
tive, the  other  progressive.  The  former  materializes  the  idea 
of  union,  as  if  it  were  a  mere  outward  conformity ;  the  latter 
idealizes  it,  as  if  it  were  only  a  vague  spiritual  state.  The 
first  puts  the  church  into  circumscription  and  confines  it  by 
rites  and  ceremonies ;  the  second  is  often  reckless  of  all  out- 
ward and  visible  forms  and  order.  The  one  is  more  objective 
and  was  rooted  in  the  ancient  church ;  the  othei*  is  more  sub- 
jective and  works  subtly  in  modern  society.  Each  has  its  rela- 
tive rights  ;  each,  left  to  itself,  rushes  into  evil ;  the  problem 
is,  their  mutual  conciliation  in  one  complete  system.    Both  the 


CENTRIPETAL  AND  CENTRIFUGAL  FORCES.        269 

centripetal  find  the  centrifugal  forces  must  be  combined  if  the 
church  is  to  revolve  in  a  true  orbit  around  Christ,  the  central 
sun  of  our  spiritual  sj'stem. 

And  both  these  tendencies  in  their  extremes  infallibly  lead, 
from  opposite  causes,  to  dissension  and  disunion.  Rome  illus- 
trates the  one :  llie  history  of  many  Protestant  sects  the  other. 
The  reformers  opposed  Rome  because  it  put  the  centre 
of  unity  in  the  Papacy  instead  of  in  Christ.  They  denied 
that  there  could  be,  or  that  there  ought  to  be,  any  one  cen- 
tral, organized  hierarchy  for  the  whole  church  througliout  all 
the  world,  since  this  inevitably  leads  to  trampling  on  national 
and  personal  rights.  And  so  the  reformation  formed  distinct 
national  churches.  These,  in  their  turn,  through  the  baleful 
union  of  church  and  state,  imposed  a  yoke  on  the  conscience 
which  our  Reformed  or  Calvinistic  churches  were  especially 
unable  to  bear.  Erastianism  provoked  dissent.  Dissent,  in 
its  turn,  multiplied  divisions,  some  of  which  doubtless  had  a 
providential  reason  and  necessity,  and  contributed  to  the  accel- 
erated diffusion  and  definite  application  of  Christian  truth; 
while  others  are  based  on  arbitrary  or  trivial  grounds.  But 
so  it  is  that  both  these  opposite  principles,  repi-esenting  exter- 
nal unity  and  an  arbitrary  individualism,  have  tended  in  the 
same  direction,  engendering  schisms. 

Nor  is  it  easy  to  frame  even  a  theoretic  scheme  on  which 
the  fragments  can  be  restored  to  their  lost  union.  The  idea 
of  one  universal,  visible  government  for  all  the  churches  in 
all  the  nations,  seems  to  be  as  visionary  as  that  of  a  universal 
monarchy  or  republic.  And  even  as  to  the  churches  in  the 
same  country,  there  is  only  one  plain  and  easy  way  by  which 
they  might  all  be  united,  and  that  is,  by  becoming — Presby- 
terians, or  Baptists,  or  Episcopalians,  or  Congregationalists. 
But  this  is  like  telling  the  hand  to  become  a  foot,  and  the  eye 
to  become  an  ear.  Unless  all  past  experience  be  a  delusion, 
the  church  can  never  be  reunited  on  the  basis  of  any  claim 
or  pretension,  which  is  the  exclusive  possession  of  any  one  of 
the  branches,  especially  if  it  be  a  principle,  which,  like  the 
papacy,  the  apostolic  succession,  or  the  necessity  of  any  one 


2 TO  CHRISTIAN    UNION    AND    ECCLESIASTIC AL    EEUNION. 

mode  of  baptism,  involves  the  refusal  of  cliurcli  rights  and 
fellowship  to  other  denominations.  These  are  bars  to  the 
very  possibility  of  reunion. 

And  then,  too,  supposing  the  union  of  the  churches  effected, 
there  still  remains  the  great  unsolved  cpiestion  of  the  relation 
of  the  church  to  the  state — the  central  problem  of  human 
history  in  view  of  the  final  destiny  of  the  race.  All  our 
present  theories  and  adjustments  are  simply  provisional.  And 
well  is  it  for  ns  that  we  are  not  now  called  upon  to  do  any- 
thing more  than  meet  present  emergencies,  and  keep  these 
two  great  forms  of  human  society  and  life  in  a  state  of  exter- 
nal amity.  At  the  end  it  seems  probable  that  one  must  be 
virtually  resolved  into  the  other. 

While  such  difhculties  attend  the  final  and  complete  solu- 
tion of  this  momentous  subject  of  church  union,  it  is  still 
some  comfort  to  think  that  each  of  the  larger  branches  of  the 
church  has  done  and  is  doing  a  great  and  needed  work,  that 
each  division  and  corps  has  some  especial  task  assigned  it. 
Spiritual  nnion  must  precede  external  unity  ;  and  so,  in  pro- 
portion as  all  labor  for  the  one  end  in  the  same  spirit,  will 
they  be  coming  nearer  together,  marching  toward  the  common 
centre,  with  one  ensign  full  high  advanced  above  all  other 
banners  of  the  saci-amental  host,  bearing  that  One  Name,  un- 
der which  alone  can  be  ascribed  the  words  :  In  hoc  vinces. 
At  the  same  time,  much  may  be  done  and  is  now  doing  to 
mitigate  the  evils  of  dissent  and  to  draw  Christians  nearer 
together.  In  the  i-apid  multiplication  of  sects  we  lla^■e  about 
reached  a  point  where  we  must  choose  between  disintegration 
and  reunion.  The  atoms  have  triumphed  over  the  forces,  but 
they  are  now  beginning  to  feel  the  power  of  elective  aftini- 
ties.  Points  of  difference  are  neglected,  and  points  of  agree- 
ment are  magnified.  And  several  broad  general  tendencies 
are  working  in  this  direction. 

One  of  these  is,  the  characteristics  of  the  later  revivals 
with  which  our  churches  have  been  favored.  These  have 
been  of  a  more  mutual  and  co-operative  character  ;  the  laity 
have  taken  a  more  active  part  in  them  ;    the  unity  of  the 


SECTS  transient;   the  ciiurcit  abides.  271 

Spirit  has  been  increasingly  felt.  When  diurches  are  lifeless 
they  are  more  nnder  the  sway  of  mechanical  forms.  Cold 
binds  together  in  rigidity ;  heat  fuses  the  particles.  A 
higher  temperature  produces  a  finer  temperament,  especially 
if  One  sits  by  who  purifieth  the  sons  of  Levi  and  purgeth 
them  as  gold  and  silver,  that  they  may  offer  unto  the  Lord  a 
sacrifice  of  righteousness. 

And  is  not  the  power  of  mere  sectarianism  losing  something 
of  its  tenacity  and  rigidity  ?  Are  any  of  ns  as  sectarian  as 
we  were  twenty  or  thirty  years  ago?  If  even  in  the  sphere 
of  onr  natural  life  it  can  justly  be  said  that  "  the  enmities  ai-e 
mortal,  and  the  humanities  are  eternal,''  much  more  does  this 
hold  true  of  our  spiritual  life.  Polemics  die,  but  Cln-ist  liveth 
forever.  Sects  are  transient ;  the  church  abides.  Local  and 
personal  feuds  are  soon  forgotten.  The  lines  become  more 
flowing  ;  the  curve  takes  the  place  of  the  triangle.  Sidelong 
influences  are  insensibly  creeping  in.  The  members  of  the 
different  denominations  are  coming  to  look  more  alike.  Each 
judges  the  others  more  charitably,  and  itself  less  egotistically. 
Without  recommending  any  indiscriminate  laxity  either  of 
doctrine  or  of  observances,  we  may  hail  such  tokens  as  auspi- 
cious. We  judge  our  neighbors  better  when  we  know  them 
better ;  and  we  now  compare  our  differences  better  than 
ever  before.  Some  of  our  divisions,  imported  from  the  old 
world,  are  becoming  historical  anachronisms  and  accidents. 
The  Arminianism  of  the  Methodists  is  of  a  very  different 
type  from  what  the  Calvinists  of  Europe  used  to  call  the 
"  gangrene  ;  "  for  it  is  full  of  the  flame  of  evangelism  ;  and 
our  Calvinism  has  been  enlarged  by  the  theology  of  Edwai-ds. 
If  Antinomianism  and  Pelagianism  are  found  here  in  our 
orthodox  churches,  they  have  certainly  improved  in  their  style 
of  preaching.  It  is  increasingly  felt  tliat  each  l)rancli  of  the 
church  represents  some  important  aspect  of  the  Christian  faith 
or  life,  which  the  others  may  have  kept  in  the  background. 
This  one  is  more  logical,  that  one  more  emotional  ;  another  is 
more  historic,  still  another  is  more  individual  ;  one  is  al)sorbed 
in  doctrine,  another  is  zealous  for  work  ;  while  all  may  be 


272  CHEISTIAN    UNION    AND    ECCLESIASTICAL    KEUNION. 

living  for  Christ  and  bis  cliiirch.  Each  may  learn  from  the 
others,  as  they  grow  into  one  Spirit. 

And  for  each  and  all  a  great  point  would  be  gained,  pro- 
vided they  could  unite,  not  only  in  works  of  general  philan- 
thropy, but  also  in  some  stated  religious  observances,  com- 
memorative of  the  grand  historic  facts  of  the  Christian  faith, 
in  which  they  all  agree,  and  which  cannot  be  appropriated 
by  any  one  branch  of  the  church;  such  as  the  birth,  the 
death  and  the  resurrection  of  our  Lord,  and  the  giving  of  the 
Holy  Ghost.  For  these  festivals  antedate,  not  only  our  divi- 
sions, but  also  the  corruptions  of  the  papacy ;  they  exalt  the 
Lord,  and  not  man ;  they  involve  a  public  and  solemn  recog- 
nition of  essential  Christian  facts,  and  are  thus  a  standing 
protest  against  infidelity  ;  they  bring  out  the  historic  side  of 
the  Christian  faith,  and  connect  us  with  its  whole  history  ; 
and  all  in  the  different  denominations  could  unite  in  their 
observance  without  sacrificing  any  article  of  their  creed  or 
discipline. 

This  tendency  to  union  is  also  aided  in  this  country  by  the 
ver}'  genius  of  our  republic.  Democracy  is  often  thought  to 
be  but  another  name  for  the  triumph  of  individualism  and 
anarchy  ;  but  this  is  a  superficial  and  unhistoric  view.  De- 
mocracy makes  each  individual  concerned  for  the  general 
good  ;  and  so  it  has  more  and  higher  interests  in  common 
than  any  other  form  of  government,  and  tends  almost  irre- 
sistibly to  unity.  It  gives  to  each  man  the  deepest  interest 
in  government  and  law ;  it  must  have  united  action  ;  it  needs 
railroads,  steamboats,  and  telegraphs,  to  abolish  space  and 
time,  that  men  all  over  the  land  may  at  the  same  time  think 
and  act  together.  With  one  exception,  we  are  a  more  united 
people  now  that  we  stretch  across  the  continent,  than  were 
our  fathers  when  they  just  fringed  the  Atlantic  coast.  There 
will  and  must  be  union  here;  and  if  while  the  state  is  blend- 
ing all  races,  the  church  continues  to  split  up  into  fragments, 
it  will  inevitably  lose  its  power,  in  face  of  the  mighty  and 
impetuous  interests  which  are  now  organizing  to  subdue  this 
hemisphere.     And  a  republic  like  ours,  where  church  and 


OUK   NATIONAL    CONFLICT.  273 

state  are  separated,  offers  facilities  for  Christi-an  union  and 
reunion  sncli  as  can  nowhere  else  be  found.  Extenially 
everything  favors  it — the  spirit  of  the  people  and  the  open 
pathway.  We  are  far  beyond  the  European  complications, 
and  may  dare  hoj^e  that  here  the  reunion  and  pacification  of 
our  Lord's  divided  church  may  be  inaugurated  with  lai-ge 
pi-oniise  of  success. 

And  even  our  present  national  conflict  is  teaching  us  a  like 
lesson.  AYe  are  passing  from  the  Iliad  to  the  Odyssey  of  our 
republican  history  (and  under  our  Ulysses  too),  in  an  awe- 
inspiring  and  deadly  battle  between  the  rational  principle  of 
man's  right  to  freedom,  and  the  despotic  maxim  that  might 
makes  right ;  and  also  between  the  instinct  of  national  life 
and  tlie  heresy  of  secession,  which  means  national  death.  All 
our  people  and  all  our  churches  have  felt  the  thrill  of  patriotic 
ardor  inspired  by  the  renewed  and  intense  consciousness  of 
that  national  unity,  which  is  mutely  foretold  by  our  very 
geography  and  by  our  common  relations  to  the  other  nations 
of  the  earth  ;  they  have  all  received  a  new  baptism,  a  baptism 
of  blood,  the  sign  and  seal  of  our  republican  i-egeneration. 
And  so  they  have  been  bound  together  as  never  before  j  not 
only  by  common  hopes  and  common  fears,  by  common  exulta- 
tion in  the  hour  of  victory  and  common  mourning  at  the  loss 
of  so  many  of  the  bravest  and  best  of  our  country's  sons, 
whom  it  will  take  another  generation  to  re2:>lace ;  not  only  in 
the  ministrations  of  Christians  of  every  name  among  tlie  sick, 
the  wounded  and  the  dying,  in  our  many  hospitals  and  on  our 
many  fields  of  battle,  where  they  have  all  spoken  the  same 
lessons  from  the  same  Book ;  not  only  because  chastisement 
and  afflictions  have  wrought  in  all  our  hearts  a  calmer  faith 
and  a  serener  temper,  which  flees  from  the  voice  of  discord 
and  longs  for  the  one  thing  needful ;  but  also  because,  as  we 
have  seen  the  awful  result  and  retribution  of  the  spirit  of  dis- 
union and  hatred  in  the  state,  we  have  read  a  deeper  lesson 
of  the  priceless  value  of  Christian  fellowship  and  brother- 
hood ;  so  that  in  these  throes  of  agonies  of  our  mortal  strife, 
our  minor  differences  have  been  forscotten  or  buried  out  of 


274  CriEISTIA.N    UNION    AND    ECCLESIASTICAL    EEUNION. 

sight,    and  onr  iniitiortal  faith  and    Christian    charity  have 
been  vivified  and  enlarged. 

Another  and  more  urgent  call  to  union  comes  to  us  from 
our  common  interest  against  a  common  foe,  which  is  assaulting 
the  \ei'j  citadel  of  our  faith.  Infidelity  is  no  longer  wasting 
its  strength  in  skirmishes  and  partisan  warfare  ;  it  is  concen- 
trating its  subtile  and  malign  power  in  a  comprehensive  and 
organized  campaign.  Its  two  extreme  and  contrasted  forms, 
materialism  and  idealism,  or  atheism  and  pantheism,  are 
reduced  to  well-defined  systems,  which  are  striving  to  ally 
themselves  with  modern  civilization  and  modern  democracy. 
Each  claims  to  be  the  final  system  for  man — idealism  in  the 
name  of  the  deductive  process  of  demonstration,  and  mate- 
rialism in  the  name  of  the  inductive  philosopliy  ;  M-hile  Chris- 
tian theism  attempts  to  hold  and  reconcile  both  these  methods. 
Philosophical  and  historical  criticism  are  at  work  to  under- 
mine the  faith.  The  Essays  and  Reviews,  the  Colenso  con- 
troversy of  England,  lienan's  Life  of  Jesus,  and  Strauss's  new 
elaboration  of  his  Life  of  Jesus  for  more  popular  effect,  are 
but  the  beginnings  of  a  contest  which  has  been  long  foreseen, 
and  in  which  the  whole  of  historical  Christianity,  the  Bible,  the 
church,  and  all  the  doctrines  of  our  confessions  of  faith  are 
at  stake.  Is  the  Bible  the  same  as  all  other  books,  only  the 
most  popular  ?  Is  the  church  on  the  same  plane  with  all  other 
institutions,  only  the  most  diffused  ?  Is  Christian  experience 
the  product  of  religious  imagination  ?  Is  tlie  incarnation  the 
process  of  humanity  in  history,  the  Trinity  a  fornuda  for  an 
abstract  law  of  thought,  and  the  very  name  of  God  but  another 
name  for  the  Absolute  Unknown?  These  are  tlie  questions. 
A  resolute  attempt  is  making  to  blot  Christianity  out  from 
the  record  of  living  history,  to  resolve  its  facts  into  myths, 
its  miracles  into  jugglery,  its  doctrines  into  ideas,  its  God- 
man  into  a  vague  moral  hero.  And  this  infidelity  will 
strive  for  the  possession  of  our  land  as  for  no  other,  in  the 
full  consciousness  that  thus  it  holds  the  future  in  its  grasp. 
Here  then  is  a  controversy  in  view  of  which  we  camiot  afford 
to  spend  our  chief  strength  in  mutual  crimiiuxticMis  and  doc- 


THE   CHCECII    THE   BODY    OF    CHRIST.  275 

trinal  logomachy  ;  for  it  concerns  our  common  Christian  lieri- 
tage,  lying  back  of  all  our  ecclesiastical  and  sectarian  disputes. 
It  must  here  draw  Christians  nearer  together,  as  it  is  already 
doing  in  Germany,  France,  and  England. 

And  Romanism  too,  should  the  designs  of  the  cool  and 
wary  Emperor  of  the  French  be  carried  out  in  Mexico,  may 
exalt  itself  anew  in  this  Protestant  land.  The  Latin  and 
Anglo-Saxon  races  may  here  come  into  deadly  conflict  on  a 
similar  issue  to  that  which  in  Europe  has  kept  them  asunder 
for  three  centuries.  Other  governments  of  Europe  too,  as 
well  as  the  Papacy,  would  be  glad  to  stay  the  onward  course 
of  this  Protestant  land  ;  and  some  may  be  even  willing  to 
sacrifice  their  love  of  Protestantism  to  their  dread  of  our  grow- 
ing power. 

And  both  these  contests  against  infidelity  and  against  Ro- 
manism are  not  only  arguments  for  Christian  union,  but  also 
lead  us  to  the  real  source  and  centre  of  such  union,  that  is  the 
adorable  person  of  our  Lord.  His  is  the  only  name  which  can 
conquer  them  and  unite  us.  In  proportion  as  the  different 
branches  of  the  church  rally  round  him,  and  make  him  to 
be  the  centre  of  their  whole  system,  in  that  same  proportion 
do  they  live  one  life  ;  for  the  church  is,  in  its  essence,  the 
body  of  Christ.  Our  text  declares  that  we  are  to  become 
one  tln-ouo-h  the  knowledo-e  and  faith  of  the  Son  of  God. 
Tliere  is  no  other  way  to  a  living  and  permanent  uni(m  and 
reunion  ;  all  other  projects  know  not  the  word  that  solves  the 
enigma.  No  church  is  ready  for  union  until  it  is  full  of  Christ. 
The  whole  pressure  of  modern  thought  and  theology  is  just 
in  this  direction.  AVhen  our  theology,  our  preaching,  and  our 
very  lives,  say  that  Christ  is  our  all  in  all,  then  wo  shall  meet 
and  flow  together.  And  that  blessed  remuon  will  come,  even 
though  our  eyes  here  on  earth  may  not  see  its  resplendent 
glories  ;  for  the  Head  of  the  church  has  pledged  his  unfailing 
word.  And  it  shall  be  as  much  higher  than  the  oneness  of 
the  okl,  even  of  the  apostolic  church,  as  perfect  sanctification 
is  hio-her  than  unconscious  innocence.  An  old  fable  tells  us 
that  the  majestic  form  of  truth  once  walked  the  earth,  but 


276  CHKISTIAN    UNION    AND    ECCLESIASTICAL    REUNION. 

M^as  dismembered,  and  that  the  sundered  parts  are  wandering 
nj3  and  down  in  ceaseless,  weary  search,  each  for  the  others, 
since  each  is  still  and  ever  instinct  with  the  old  common  life  ; 
and  it  is  this  instinct  which  impels  to  the  search,  and  the 
very  search  thus  contains  a  prophecy  of  the  reunion  of  all  the 
fragments  in  one  radiant  form  at  last.  And  so  shall  it  be  with 
the  riven  body  of  our  Lord  ;  for  each  separate  member  is  still 
vital  with  the  memory  of  the  old  and  loving  union,  and  it  will 
never  be  at  rest  until  it  finds  all  the  others  ;  and  bone  shall 
come  to  bone,  and  flesh  to  flesh,  and  it  shall  all  be  clothed 
upon  with  the  grace  of  an  endless  life  ;  and  it  shall  be  fairer 
than  any  of  the  sons  and  daughters  of  men,  all  glorious  with- 
out and  within,  holy  and  without  blemish;  love  shall  distil 
from  its  lips,  and  its  words  shall  be  like  celestial  music  ;  and 
it  shall  bear  upon  its  placid  brow  the  victor's  wreath,  and  in 
its  hands  the  victoi-'s  j^alm  ;  and  all  this  shall  it  be  because 
it  is  the  bride  of  the  Lamb ;  and  the  bridegroom  will  array 
his  spouse,  for  whom  he  gave  his  very  life  in  ransom,  with 
light  like  unto  a  stone  most  precious,  even  like  a  jasper  stone, 
clear  as  crystal,  and  lead  her  into  the  temple  of  God  :  and 
she  shall  live  with  him  and  serve  him  in  that  heavenly  city, 
and  go  no  more  out  forever. 

2.  Such  anticipations  of  the  final  state  and  the  perfected 
union  of  the  church  of  the  Iledeemer,  may  well  inspire  our 
hearts  and  guide  our  thoughts,  as  we  now  pass  from  the  more 
general  to  the  more  particular  branch  of  our  subject;  from 
the  hope  of  final  union  to  the  question  of  the  reunion  of  those 
who  are  called  by  tlie  same  name,  and  who  have  the  same 
standards  of  faith  and  order.  All  ai-guments  for  Christian 
union  have  here  more  direct  application,  and  are  heightened 
by  special  inducements ;  while  many  of  the  inherent  difficul- 
ties of  wider  projects  become  irrelevant  and  unsubstantial. 
And  whatever  the  difficulties,  nevertheless,  says  the  apostle, 
w hereunto  we  have  already  attained,  let  us  walk  by  the  same 
rule,  let  us  mind  the  same  thing. 

It  is,  of  course,  the  reunion  of  the  two  main  branches  of  the 
Presbyterian  church  in  this  country  which  most  directly  con- 


THE   DIFFICULTIES    OF    KEITNION.  277 

cerns  us.  The  question  is  one  of  direct  practical  moment. 
Some  think  the  full  time  for  action  has  come ;  all  tliink  it  wise 
to  discuss  the  subject  in  its  vaiious  bearings.  Tlie  General 
Assemblies  that  met  last  year  inaugurated,  for  the  first  time, 
a  trulj"  fraternal  correspondence  under  the  happiest  auspices. 
Good  men  all  over  the  land  are  pi-aying  for  entire  reconcilia- 
tion. If  it  can  be  effected,  its  influence  on  the  bi'oader  ques- 
tion of  Christian  union  can  hardly  be  over-estimated;  for 
these  two  bodies  are  made  up  to  a  large  extent  of  the  most 
solid,  energetic,  patriotic,  wealthy,  and  liberal  part  of  our 
population,  extending  through  the  whole  land,  east  and  west, 
north  and  south.  United  they  might  form  the  most  effective 
Christian  organization  on  the  continent. 

At  the  same  time  we  must  look  the  difficulties  as  well  as 
the  encouragements  full  in  the  face.  This  is  one  of  the  cases 
in  which  it  is  easier  to  feel  right  than  to  act  just  right. 
Several  grave  questions  will  be  raised.  What  were  feasible 
for  two  local  churches  or  pi-esbytei'ies,  may  not  be  as  easy  for 
two  widely  extended  denominations.  And,  besides,  a  second 
marriage  between  parties  who  ha^'e  been  divorced  (whether 
legally  or  not)  must  be  a  sober,  discreet,  and  rational  union, 
not  quite  so  s]X)ntaneous  as  the  first,  and  heralded  by  repent- 
ance and  forgiveness.  Better  defer  the  renewal  of  the  bonds, 
than  come  together  for  strife  and  debate  and  to  smite  with 
the  fists  of  wickedness.  Better  not  try  to  tune  the  instruments 
to  the  same  key,  if  there  is  danger  of  breaking  the  strings. 
But  still,  whatever  may  be  the  difficulties,  there  are  none 
which  cannot  be  surmounted,  if  we  are  all  ready  to  act  in  the 
spirit  of  that  famous  maxim,  of  obscure  and  uncertain  author- 
ship, but  of  profound  Christian  import :  In  necessariis  unitas, 
in  non  necessariis  libertas,  in  utrisque  caritas.* 

*  This  saying  has  been  attributed  to  Augustine,  to  Vincens  of  Lerins,  and 
several  other  ancient  writers.  Richard  Baxter,  in  1679,  eulogized  it,  ascrib- 
ing it  to  a  "  pacificator  "  whom  he  does  not  further  name.  Dr.  Frederick 
Liicke,  in  a  learned  treatise  on  its  "Age,  Author,  Original  Form  and  True 
Meaning,"  published  at  Gottingen,  1850,  reviews  the  history  of  this  famous 
phrase,  and  ascribes  its  authorship  to  Rujpertus  Maldenius,  a  Lutheran 
divine  of  the  first  part  of  the  seventeenth  century,  who  wrote  a  J'amenesis 


278  CHRISTIAN    UNION    AND    ECCLESIASTICAL    EEUNION. 

Such  a  reunion  implies  three  prime  conditions.  The  first 
of  these  is,  that  there  be  a  spirit  of  nnitual  concession.  Each 
must  recognize  the  good  there  is  in  the  other,  for  each  has 
of  right  a  pretty  good  opinion  of  itself,  and  neither  can  afford 
to  lose  its  self-respect.  An  open  and  manly  union  on  equal 
terms  is  all  that  either  side  can  ask  or  accept.  There  is  to 
be  no  capitulation  ;  neither  is  victor,  neither  is  vanquished, 
except  by  the  spirit  of  love.  The  second  condition  is,  that 
both  accept  in  its  integrity  the  Presbyterian  system  of  church 
order  as  distinguished  from  other  systems.  On  this  ground, 
the  other  branch  of  our  church  has  had  its  chief  stability  and 
strength,  and  here,  for  a  time,  we  attempted  unreal  com- 
promises and  adjustments.  The  tliird  condition  is,  that  the 
reunion  be  simply  on  the  basis  of  the  standards,  which  we 
equally  accept,  without  j^rivate  interpretation  ;  interpreted 
in  their  legitimate  grammatical  and  historic  sense,  in  the 
S])irit  of  the  original  Adopting  Act,  and  as  "  containing  the 
system  of  doctrine  taught  in  the  Holy  Scriptures."  My 
liberty  here  is  not  to  be  judged  of  another  man's  conscience. 
Any  other  view  not  only  puts,  for  all  practical  purposes,  the 
Confession  above  the  Scriptures,  but  also  puts  somebody's 
theological  system  above  the  confession. 

Pre-supposing  these  conditions,  let  us  now  look  somewhat 
more  critically  at  our  points  of  difference,  yet  with  an  irenic 
and  not  a  polemic  intent ;  mindful  also  of  our  responsibility 
to  our  only  Master  for  the  preservation  and  defence  of  the 
truth  and  the  trust  committed  to  our  especial  guardianship. 
For  lie  that  provideth  not  for  his  own  house  is  worse  than 
an  infidel. 

Every  powerful  organization  known  in  history  has  been 
shaped  and  moved  by  the  influence  of  contesting  and  almost 
opposite  forces.  Progress  through  and  by  conflict  seems  to 
be  the  law  of  human  life.  Even  the  naturalist  finds  it  diffi- 
cult to  unfold  the  order  of  nature,  without  implying  the  ex- 

Votiva  pro  Pace  Ecclesiae.  This  is  also  reprinted  entire  in  Lucke's  work. 
In  the  Stndieu  und  Kritiken,  4s  Heft,  1851,  Liicke  further  defended  hia 
position  against  the  claims  set  up  for  Frank,  a  Reformed  theologian. 


HISTOKY   OF   THE   PRESBYTERIAN    CHURCH    IN    OUR    LAND.  279 

istence  of  inert  atoms  as  well  as  living  forces.  The  conflicts 
of  law  and  liberty,  of  the  conservative  and  progressive 
elements  of  society,  enter  into  every  civic  debate,  as  do  sov- 
ereignty and  freedom  into  all  theological  dispntes.  The  chief 
problem  of  government,  whether  in  the  state  or  in  the  clnirch, 
centres  in  the  adjustment  of  rival  f(;rces.  As  long  as  they 
can  w^ork  together  in  any  organism  it  is  made  more  effective ; 
for  diversity  in  unity  is  essential  to  progress  as  well  as  to 
symmetry.  The  wheel  is  ever  striving  to  fly  from  the  axle 
which  reduces  the  momentum  to  harmony  and  use.  But,  on 
the  other  hand,  wdien  the  colliding  powers  become  exclusive 
and  unrelenting,  tiiere  must  be  division  to  avoid  the  greater 
evils  of  anarcliy  and  despotism.  An  attempt  to  secure  a  cast- 
iron  uniformity  shivers  a  sensitive  fabric  into  mere  fragments. 
The  history  of  the  Presbyterian  church  in  our  land  illus- 
trates these  principles.  When  united  it  grew  apace  because 
it  contained  such  energetic  and  diverse  elements.  The  ten- 
sion at  last  became  so  violent,  that  rupture  was  inevitable 
without  such  concessions  as  neither  party  was  in  the  mood  to 
make.  The  causes  of  the  rupture  were  intricate  and  mani- 
fold, some  of  them  running  their  roots  into  our  colonial,  and 
even  our  Eu4-opean  ancestry.  Some  persons  who  are  fond  of 
ascribing  great  events  to  little  causes,  who  explain  the  dis- 
covery of  the  law  of  gravitation  by  the  falling  of  an  apple, 
say,  it  was  all  owing  to  the  ambition  and  personal  disputes 
of  a  few  party  leaders  ;  and  they  propose,  as  a  sure  remedy, 
to  let  these  combatants  die  out,  and  then  have  the  new  gen- 
eration settle  the  dispute  on  easy  and  agreeable  terms.  Just 
as  if  personal  ambition  and  theological  eagerness  belonged 
only  to  the  fathers,  and  the  children  had  no  part  in  such  frail- 
ties. It  may  yet  be  found,  that  something  of  the  old  Adam 
is  still  lurking  in  our  young  Melancthons.  At  any  rate,  they 
might  profitably  be  put  upon  a  course  of  Presbyterian  his- 
tory, adapted  to  beginners,  if  only  to  learn  how  complex  are 
the  causes,  theological  and  ecclesiastical,  historical  and  even 
political,  out  of  which  our  division  was  engendered.  A 
mouse  cannot  beget  a  mountain. 


2S0  CHKISTIxiN    UNIOX    AND   ECCLESIASTICAL    EEDNIOlSr. 

Our  common  Reformed  faith  was  planted  in  New  England 
by  a  population  singularly  acute,  practical,  and  homogeneous; 
and  there  it  assumed  the  form  of  Cono^reo-ationalism.  The 
same  faith  was  later  established  in  the  middle  and  southern 
colonies  by  a  more  diverse  emigration,  from  New  England,  as 
well  as  from  Scotland,  Ireland,  and  England ;  and  there  it  took 
on  the  form  of  Presbyterianism,  unsupported  by  State  patron- 
age. Our  first  Presbyteries  and  Synods  were  nearly  equally 
divided  between  New  England  and  the  other  emigrants.  The 
Adopting  Act  of  1729  recognized  these  differences,  and  allowed 
them  "  only  about  articles  not  essential  or  necessarj',"  imply- 
ing that  there  are  such  articles  in  our  standards.  Tlie  scat- 
tered churches  I'allied  around  this  centre,  and  the  circum- 
ference grew.  The  Great  Pevival  of  the  middle  of  the  last 
century  brought  out  the  differences.  Old  Side  and  New  Side, 
New  York  and  Philadelphia,  were  separated  for  sixteen  years  ; 
but  they  readily  reunited  in  l^S^,  since  they  differed  chiefl}' 
about  men  and  measures.  A  Plan  of  Union,  acceded  to  by 
the  New  England  churches,  was  framed  in  1801,  to  combine 
Presbyterianism  and  Congregationalism  in  one  system ;  and 
under  this  plan,  the  fast  growing  West  was  gathered  in  large 
numbers  into  the  Presbyterian  Church.  The  harvest  was 
great ;  the  reapers  were  many  and  human,  and  began  to  con- 
tend for  the  spoils.  New  England  theology  was  also  felt  as  a 
modifying  and  aggressive  power,  warring  against  imputation, 
inability,  and  a  limited  atonement.  Geographical  and  semi- 
political  issues  fanned  the  flames.  The  antagonistic  forces 
began  to  show  their  teeth.  The  highest  courts  of  the  church 
became  the  arena  of  conflicts  that  disturbed  their  judicial 
imperturbability  and  senatorial  serenity.  The  will  of  a  ma- 
jority was  at  length  substituted  for  a  judicial  process,  and 
the  church  was  divided.  And  now  for  twenty -six  j-ears  each 
side  has  gone  on  its  way,  and  each  has  prospered.  New  Eng- 
land and  the  other  branch  of  our  church,  both  proposed  to 
absorb  us  ;  and,  in  fact,  the  one  did  pick  up  some  who  out- 
ran us,  and  the  other,  some  who  lagged  behind.  But  we  were 
able  to  march  on,    and  save  our  cannon  and  baggage,  and 


QUESTIONS    RAISED   BY    EEUNION.  281 

clotliing  and  small  arms  ;  and  as  we  marched  we  reorganized, 
and  consolidated,  and  did  some  good  service,  especially  against 
a  lax  theology,  a  loose  independenc}',  and  the  fearful  evil  of 
American  slavery.  And  we  have  still,  from  our  peculiar  cen- 
tral and  intermediate  position,  a  great  work  to  do.  This  po- 
sition is  so  well  defined  and  so  advantageous,  that  we  can 
leave  it  only  in  deference  to  a  plain  call  of  Providence,  and 
that  we  cannot  leave  it,  if  it  involves  any  surrender  of  the 
essential  principles  for  which  we  have  contended  and  which 
have  given  us  stability  and  advantage. 

Even  this  rapid  and  imperfect  recital  may  suffice  to  indi- 
cate the  variety  and  difficulty  of  the  questions  raised  by  the 
project  of  reunion.  They  run  all  along  the  lines  of  our  past 
history.  Some  of  them  have  to  do  with  theological  questions, 
iidierited  from  the  scholastic  Calvinism  of  Europe,  while 
others  turn  upon  mooted  points  of  modern  ethics  and  psy- 
chology. There  is  even  an  ethnological  problem,  growing  out 
of  the  necessity  of  Americanizing  foreign  elements.  There 
are  differences  on  tlie  theory  of  moral  reform,  especially  as 
to  the  true  attitude  of  the  church  about  our  great  national 
sin  of  slavery,  that  foe  of  our  ecclesiastical  as  well  as  of  our 
political  peace,  that  skeleton  in  our  feasts  of  charity.  And 
then  we  come  upon  the  question  of  mixed  and  pure  Presby- 
terianisni,  and  what  each  is,  which  leads  on  to  the  relation  of 
the  church  to  voluntary  societies.  There  are  also  doctrinal 
variations,  partly  as  to  the  strictness  of  subscription  to  the 
confession,  partly  on  specific  heads  of  doctrine.  And,  in  fine, 
there  are  the  perennial  and  generic  conflicts  between  the  men 
whose  intellects,  as  Newton  says,  need  to  be  weighed  with 
lead,  and  the  men  who  need  to  be  plumed  with  feathers ;  be- 
tween the  agile  and  the  stagnant ;  between  the  historical  and 
the  logical ;  between  the  theological  and  the  ethical ;  between 
idealists  and  realists,  Platonists  and  Aristotelians.  For  such 
tendencies  run  through  all  history,  and  their  representatives 
spring  up  in  every  human  institution,  because  they  stand  for 
what  is  inextinguishable  in  human  nature  and  in  human 
needs. 


2S2  CHRISTIAN   UNION   AND    ECCLESIASTICAL   REUNION. 

Several  of  these  issues  are  obsolete.  All  of  these  difficul- 
ties are  mitigated.  The  division  has  been  in  some  respects  of 
benefit  to  both  sides.  Our  branch  of  the  church  is  much 
closer  to  its  standards,  taken  even  in  the  strictest  interpreta- 
tion, than  it  was  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago.  Has  the  other 
side  so  far  abated  what  was  thought  to  be  its  exclusiveness, 
that  we  can  now  meet  on  equal  terms  on  the  same  platform  ? 
The  question  is  not,  whether  there  are  no  diffej-ences.  Taking 
both  of  us,  as  we  now  are,  the  question  is,  can  we  agree  to 
differ  ?     Let  ns  scan  the  mooted  points. 

Some  of  these,  we  say,  are  obsolete  or  of  no  account.  The 
question  of  races,  the  contest  between  the  ISTew  England,  and 
the  Scotch  and  Irish  elements,  is  no  affair  for  compacts ;  the 
difference  runs  in  the  blood.  It  may  be  settled  by  social 
intercourse  or  intermarriage.  Then  the  Plan  of  Union,  as 
imj^lying  any  compact  between  us  and  New  England,  is  twice 
dead  and  plucked  up  by  the  roots  ;  the  rights  of  the  few 
remaining  churches  formed  on  this  plan  would  of  course  be 
respected.  The  matter  of  co-ojieration  and  voluntary  soci- 
eties is  no  longer  formidable.  Our  own  action  lias  decided 
our  policy  iu  respect  to  education  for  the  ministry.  The 
extraordinary  "  Rules  "  of  the  American  Home  Missionary 
Society,  virtually  cutting  off  our  churches  from  the  aid  of  an 
association,  in  which  we  had,  to  say  the  least,  equal  and  time- 
honored  rights,  has  compelled  us  to  take  all  our  feeble 
churches  under  our  own  care.  As  to  foreign  missions,  both 
the  American  Board  and  the  Assembly's  l>oard  deserve  and 
will  wisely  use  all  the  funds  that  can  be  contributed  to  this 
object,  and  that,  too,  without  jealousy  or  rivalry.  For  other 
philanthropic  charities,  Presbyterians  have  always  been  glad 
to  unite  with  Christians  of  different  names,  who  labor  for  the 
needy  and  afflicted  in  times  of  peace  or  war.  The  practical 
questions  that  might  arise  between  the  Committees  or  Boards 
of  the  different  Assemblies  could  probably  be  readily  ad- 
justed. The  most  serious  point  would  perhaps  be  as  to  the 
unwieldy  size  of  the  reunited  Assembly;  and  this  might  call 
for  a  more  limited  rej^resentation,  and  end  in  giving  to  our 


THEOLOGICAL   AFFINITY   OF   PRESBYTEKIANISM.  2S3 

highest  judicatory  more  strictly  the  character  of  a  court  of 
appeals. 

There  remain,  then,  the  two  subjects  of  our  doctrinal  diifer- 
ences,  and  of  Presbyterian  ism  as  a  polity  and  in  its  practical 
aspects.  And  these  we  ought  to  consider  with  such  wisdom 
and  love  as  not  to  revive  past  bitterness,  or  put  a  stumbling- 
block  in  the  way  of  reunion. 

The  Presbyterian  system  has  always  showed  a  marked 
affinity  with  a  vigorous  and  logical  system  of  theology. 
Accepting  all  the  immemorial  doctrines  of  the  Church  (as  the 
Incarnation,  the  Trinity,  and  Redemption),  it  has  also  been 
esjDeciall}^  attached  to  that  system  of  grace,  unfolded  by  Paul 
and  advocated  by  Augustine,  which  makes  the  divine  sover- 
eignty the  basis  and  the  divine  glory  the  end  of  the  whole 
economy  ;  and  which  views  tlie  human  race  under  the  two 
generic  aspects  of  the  headship  of  Adam  in  respect  to  sin,  and 
of  the  headship  of  Christ  in  relation  to  redemption.  This 
system,  though  at  first  in  substance  adopted  by  the  leading 
reformers,  even  in  England,*  has  come  to  be  designated  as  the 
Calvin istic.  Its  best  and  fullest  expression  is  found  in  the 
Westminster  Confession  and  Catechisms,  which  in  doctrine 
are  solid,  in  definitions  distinct,  in  scope  comprehensive,  in 
form  dignified,  full  of  holy  awe  before  the  divine  Word,  and 
adapted  to  the  edification  of  mature  believers.  The  two  main 
tendencies  of  historical  Calvinism,  that  which  emphasizes  the 
divine  sovereignty,  and  that  known  as  the  theology  of  the 
covenants,  are  therein  impartially  represented,  neither  exclu- 
sively. 

Our  differences  centre  in  part  upon  the  interpretation  of 
this  Confession.  An  Old  School  man  is  popularly  understood 
to  mean  one  who  thinks  that  he  adopts  every  jot  and  tittle  of 

*  Calvin's  Catechism  was  ordered  to  be  used  in  the  University  of  Cam- 
bridge as  late  as  1578.  Bucer  and  Peter  Martyr  were  called  by  Cranmer  to 
Cambridge  and  Oxford.  Bishop  Jewel,  in  1563,  wrote  to  Peter  Martyr 
about  the  Articles  :  "  As  to  matters  of  doctrine,  we  have  pared  everything 
away  to  the  very  quick,  and  do  not  differ  from  you  a  hair's  breadth." — 
Zurich  Letters^  3,  89. 


284  CHRISTIAN    UNION   AND   ECCLESIASTICAL   KEUNION, 

these  elaborate  standards,  the  i])8issiina  verha,  just  as  they 
stand.  A  New  School  man  is  one  who  accepts  them — not 
"  for  substance  of  doctrine,"  that  is  not  our  phrase,  but — as 
"  containing  the  sj'stem  of  doctrine  taught  in  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures," w'hich  is  the  only  form  of  assent  demanded.  We  re- 
ceive the  Confession,  not  as  a  rule  of  faith  and  life,  for  this 
only  the  Scriptures  can  be;  but  as  containing  our  system  of 
faith,  in  contrast  with  Arminianism  and  Pelagian  ism,  as  well 
as  Socinianism  and  Romanism.  "We  accept  it  in  its  legiti- 
mate, historical  sense,  as  understood  and  interpreted  through 
the  history  of  our  Church.  Both  branches  of  our  ciiurch  also 
stand  in  the  same  general  relation  to  other  schemes  of  doc- 
trine ;  both  preach  the  same  law  and  the  same  gospel,  and 
train  up  their  members  in  the  same  system  of  faith  and  the 
same  order  of  Christian  life.  Oar  differences  are  of  degree 
and  not  of  kind  ;  not  of  Yes  and  ]^o,  but  of  more  and  less; 
not  of  good  and  bad,  but  of  good  and  better.  Especially  is 
this  the  case  among  our  laymen,  whose  vocation  is  practical 
Christian  work  rather  than  to  p)ly  questions  that  gender  strife. 
And  may  we  not  differ  in  some  points  of  technical  theol- 
ogy, and  still  be  substantially  at  one?  Cannot  charity  find  a 
conjunction,  where  a  logical  polemic  interjects  a  disjunctive 
dilemma  ?     Doubtless  a  well-trained  controversialist  may 

' ' chase 
Some  panting  syllable  through  time  and  space," 

and  worry  his  opponents  and  weary  his  friends ;  but  sober 
and  candid  men  will  look  upion  it  as  a  gymnastic  recreation 
rather  than  as  a  needful  fight  for  the  faith  once  delivered  to 
the  saints.  The  questions  between  us  are  about  shades  of 
orthodoxy,  and  do  not  reach  to  the  dilemma,  orthodoxy  or 
hetei'odoxy.  Men  may  agree  in  doctrine  and  differ  in  philos- 
ophy. "  All  error,"  says  a  church  father,  "  is  not  heresy, 
though  all  heresy  is  error."  Let  each  side  ex[»lain  its  own 
meaning,  and  the  black  spot  will  often  fade  into  a  pemimbra. 
Questions  that  are  important  in  a  class-room,  may  be  irrele- 
vant as   to  a  public  confession  of  faith.     Certain   extreme 


OUE   FIVE    POINTS.  285 

sj^ecnlations  are  doubtless  ruled  out  by  both  the  spirit  and  the 
letter  of  our  confession ;  as,  for  example,  that  God  is  the 
author  of  sin  ;  that  happiness  and  not  holiness,  man's  happi- 
ness and  not  the  divine  glory,  is  the  end  of  the  system ;  that 
the  atonement  is  an  expedient  for  moral  impression ;  and  tliat 
man  is  able  of  himself,  without  divine  grace,  to  repent  and 
turn  unto  God.  But  those  and  kindred  errors  were  emphat- 
ically rebuked  l)y  the  Auburn  Convention,  which  denied  that 
they  were  held  by  our  ministry.  And  as  to  the  points  really 
in  dispute,  it  will  be  found  that  the  substantial  ground  as 
to  each  and  all  of  them  is  also  common  ground. 

Thus  it  is,  we  believe,  in  respect  to  the  five  points,  which 
we  are  debating,  as  our  forefathers  also  summed  up  their 
controversies  with  the  Arminians  in  the  famous  Five  Points. 
Our  points  are,  the  imputation  of  Adam's  first  sin,  the  impu- 
tation of  Christ's  righteousness,  the  nature  and  limits  of  the 
atonement,  ability  and  inability,  and  Christian  perfection. 
Other  questions,  as  of  the  eternal  generation  of  the  Son,  are 
not  now  much  pressed  ;  and  few  in  any  of  our  churches  would 
be  disposed  to  deny  the  doctrine  of  the  eternal  Sonship. 

As  to  the  imputation  of  Adam's  first  sin,  we  may  differ  on 
the  question  whether  it  be  immediate  or  mediate,  or  both ; 
we  may  say  with  Augustine  and  Calvin  and  Edwards  that 
the  sin  is  imputed  to  us  because  it  is  ours ;  or  with  the  scho- 
lastic Calvinist,  that  it  is  ours  because  it  is  imputed  to  us  ;  one 
man  may  be  realistic  and  another  man  may  be  nominalistic 
in  his  philosophy ;  while  we  all  agree  that  there  is  a  proper 
imputation,  that  certain  penal  consequences  of  the  great 
apostasy  are  reckoned  to  Adam's  posterit}^  by  virtue  of  their 
union  with  him  ;  that  from  these  evils  no  member  of  the  race 
can  be  delivered,  excepting  by  divine  grace ;  and,  also,  in  the 
practical  belief  that  for  original  sin,  without  actual  trans- 
gression, no  one  will  be  consigned  to  everlasting  death. 

On  the  imputation  of  Christ's  righteousness,  one  side  may 
note  its  resemblance  to  the  imputation  of  sin,  and  the  other 
its  points  of  difference  ;  one  may  view  it  more  in  its  relation 
to  grace,  and  another  to  the  satisfaction  of  justice  ;  one  may 


28G  CHRISTIAN    UNION    AND    ECCLESIASTICAL    REUNION, 

distinguish  between  the  active  and  passive  obedience,  another 
may  hold  them  together  in  the  unity  of  Christ's  person  and 
work  ;  wdiile  all  agree,  that  justitication  is  an  act  of  God's  free 
grace,  whereby  he  pardoneth  all  oiir  sins,  and  accepteth  us 
as  righteous  in  his  sight,  only  for  the  righteousness  of  Christ 
imputed  to  us  and  received  by  faith  alone. 

The  controversy  as  to  the  nature  of  the  atonement,  whether 
it  be  a  satisfaction  to  the  distributive  or  the  public  justice  of 
God,  is  substantially  adjusted,  when  the  terms  are  strictly 
deiined;  when  distributive  justice  is  restricted  to  the  idea  of 
rendering  to  each  one  according  to  his  personal  desert,  and 
public  justice  is  viewed  as  having  ultimate  respect  to  holiness, 
and  not  to  happiness ;  and  when  the  atonement  is  defined, 
not  as  a  government  expedient,  or  a  means  of  moral  im- 
pression, but  as  a  satisfaction  as  well  to  the  inherent  justice 
of  God  as  to  the  holy  ends  of  the  divine  law.  And  as  to  the 
limits  of  the  atonement — if  we  do  not  raise  the  intricate 
questions  of  the  order  of  the  decrees,  and  the  specific  terms 
of  the  covenant  of  redemption,  little  more  than  a  verbal  dis- 
pute remains,  so  soon  as  we  agree  that  the  oblation  made  by 
Christ  is  sufhcient  for  all,  is  to  be  offered  to  all,  enhances  the 
guilt  of  those  who  reject  it,  and  also  had  special  respect,  in  the 
comprehensive  divine  purpose,  to  the  salvation  of  the  elect. 

Even  upon  ability  and  inability,  the  sharpness  of  dispute 
is  lulled,  since  the  definitions  have  become  so  refined  that 
they  express  metaphysical  abstractions  rather  than  theologi- 
cal facts.  One  man  may  seem  to  deny  all  ability  of  any  sort, 
and  even  imply  that  there  is  no  capacity  in  man  to  make  any 
other  choice  than  the  one  actually  made  ;  another  may  put 
the  ability  in  a  power  of  opposite  choice,  which  he  confesses 
is  never  exercised.  The  former  seems  to  deprive  man  of  all 
moral  agency ;  the  latter  seems  to  imply  that  it  is  practicable 
for  man  to  repent  without  divine  grace.  Edwards  and  Smalley 
by  their  distinctions  meant,  that  neither  natural  ability  taken 
by  itself,  nor  moral  inability  taken  by  itself,  tells  the  whole 
truth  about  man's  condition,  but  that  both  together  tell  the 
whole  truth.     The  sinner  must  be  led  to  feel  both  his  respon- 


CUEIST    ALONE    CAN    BEING    US    PEACE.  287 

fiible  gnilt  and  also  his  absolute  need  of  divine  grace.  Our 
confession  affirms  the  "  liberty  of  second  causes,"  and  restricts 
the  inability  to  "  the  spiritual  good  accompanying  salvation." 
And  so  we  may  all  give  heed  to  the  exhortation  to  work  out 
our  own  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling,  for  it  is  God  that 
worketh  in  us,  both  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  good  pleasure. 

And  as  to  the  fifth  and  last  point  of  difference,  that  of 
Christian  perfection,  I  think  that  by  this  time  we  are  all  well 
agreed  that  we  have  not  already  attained,  nor  are  already  per- 
fect ;  but  this  one  thing  we  may  do,  foi'getting  those  things 
which  are  behind  and  reaching  forth  unto  those  things  which 
are  before,  we  may  press  towards  the  mark  for  the  prize  of 
the  high  calling  of  God  in  Jesus  Christ. 

For,  after  all,  Christ  alone  can  be  the  author  of  our  peace, 
and  make  of  both  one,  breaking  down  the  middle  wall  of  par- 
tition. When  we  can  read  our  differences  in  the  light  of  his 
wisdom,  and  adjust  our  conflicts  in  the  spirit  of  his  love,  and 
shape  our  doctrines  by  the  illumination  of  his  Spirit,  we  are 
no  longer  at  variance,  we  are  already  one  ;  we  are  no  longer 
ignorant,  we  are  already  wise.  When  the  skeleton  of  our 
theologies  is  clothed  upon  with  his  life,  and  becomes  like  his 
matchless  and  radiant  form,  wlien  theology  is  christologized 
in  all  its  parts,  and  finds  its  central  principle  in  the  God-man, 
our  Saviour,  then  we  shall  know  the  full  reality  of  all  which 
else  we  vainlj'  strive  to  utter.  For  it  holds  true  in  theology, 
as  in  the  Christian  life,  that  "  he  who  knows  Christ  knows 
enough,  though  he  knows  not  other  things,  and  he  who  knows 
not  Christ  knows  notliino;,  thouo-h  he  knows  other  things."  * 

Though  we  ma}'  not  have  attained  to  this  measure  of  the 
stature  of  the  fulness  of  Christ,  yet  this  review  of  our  points 
of  doctrinal  variance  may  make  it  manifest,  that  our  separa- 
tion is  more  teclmical  than  real,  in  the  letter  and  not  in  the 

*  Qui  Christum  noscit,  sat  scit,  si  castera  nescifc  ; 
Qui  Christum  nescit,  nil  scit,  si  csetera  noscit. 
-     This  saying  is  also  reported  in  another  form  : 

Hoc  est  nescire,  sine  Christo  plurima  scire ; 
Christum  si  bene  scis,  satis  est,  si  ca^tera  nescis. 


2S8  CITEISTLVN    UNION    AND    ECCLESIASTICAL    KECNION. 

spirit.  Controversies  are  very  apt  to  leave  the  body  of  the 
church  in  the  middle  and  the  disputants  at  botli  ends.  We 
are  gravitating  towards  the  centre.  Our  very  division  lias 
lessened  and  not  widened  the  breach.  We  need  only  say  of 
our  points  of  difference  what  Principal  Cunningham  said  of  a 
kindred  discussion  :  that  there  is  nothing  in  the  Confession 
which  precludes  men  from  holding,  or  which  requires  them  to 
hold,  either  of  the  contrasted  positions.*  Our  ground  has  al- 
ways been  that  both  parties  may  and  ought  to  live  under  our 
standards  in  peace  and  quietness.  We  do  not  object  even  to 
those  of  the  most  straitest  sect,  provided  that,  concerning 
zeal,  they  do  not  insist  upon  persecuting  tlie  church.  But  if 
it  be  claimed  that  the  only  basis  of  union  is  our  acceptance  of 
the  theories  of  external  imputation,  unqualified  inability  and  a 
partial  atonement,  even  if  we  held  to  these  dogmas  we  could 
not  accede  to  the  terms  ;  for  they  annul  the  very  princi]3le  of 
a  broader  ministerial  fellowship,  without  which  no  reunion 
could  be  lasting.  We  cannot  afford  to  enter  a  communion 
which  Avould  exclude  Edwards  and  Dwight,  Richards  and 
Woods.  But  let  us  rather  hope  that  time  has  taught  lessons 
of  a  higher  faith  and  a  larger  charity,  and  that  both  sides 
only  wish  for  such  a  victory  of  truth  as  is  also  the  victory  of 
charity. t 

Our  Pi-esbyterian  system  is  also,  in  fine,  an  organized  form 
of  church  govermnent,  as  is  connoted  by  its  very  name.  The 
enduring  and  growing  vigor  of  this  polity,  and  its  just  com- 
bination of  the  two  elements  of  order  and  liberty,  are  attested 
by  its  whole  history,  as  well  as  by  a  compai'ison  of  it  with 
otlier  schemes  of  church  government. 

The  churches  that  sprung  from  the  reformation  have  been 
oi-ganized  in  foui-  forms ;  as  episcopal,  tei-ritorial,  presby- 
terian,  and  independent.  Episcopacy  was  tried  in  England  ; 
independency  chiefly  in  EngLand  and  this  country  ;  territo- 
rialism  in  Germany  (essentially  presbyterian,  but  hampered 

*  See  Dr.  Cunuinfj^ham's  review  of  Sir  'Williani  Hamilton  on  Philosophical 
Necessity,  in  the  British  and  Foreign  Evangelical  Review,  1858,  p.  211. 
f  Augustine  :  Non  vincit  nisi  Veritas  :  victoria  veritatis  est  caritas. 


JOHN    CALVIN.  289 

by  the  maxim,  cujus  regio,  ejus  religio) ;  presbyterianism 
alone  penetrated  all  the  reformed  countries.  Presbyterianism 
as  contrasted  with  episcopacy  means,  that  bishops  are  not 
necessary  to  the  being  "of  the  church  ;  as  contrasted  with  the 
Lutheranism  of  Germany,  it  means,  that  the  ministry  alone 
ought  not  to  rule  the  church ;  as  contrasted  with  independ- 
ency, it  means,  that  the  individual  churches  are  to  be  organ- 
ized in  permanent  tribunals  by  a  regular  system  of  repre- 
sentation. This  system  has  its  examples  in  Scripture  and 
in  the  apostolic  church;  but  it  comes  to  us,  as  the  heirs 
of  the  Reformation,  from  the  organizing  genius  of  one  of 
the  greatest  men  of  the  sixteenth  century,  the  tercentenary 
of  whose  decease  falls  within  the  period  of  the  sessions  of 
our  Assembly,  and  whose  name  demands  of  us  and  of  the 
Christian  world  a  grateful  recognition  and  eulogy. 

John  Calvin  died  in  Geneva,  not  having  quite  reached  the 
fifty-fifth  year  of  his  life,  at  eigbt  o'clock  on  the  evening  of 
May  27th,  156-i.  He  was  the  best  systematic  divine  of  his 
century,  and  the  most  lucid  expositor  of  the  Scriptures ; 
sought  out  for  counsel  by  tlie  wisest  of  all  lands  ;  resolute  as 
a  reformer  and  unbending  as  a  disciplinarian ;  *  indefatigable 
in  trial  though  borne  down  by  many  infirmities;  knowing 
more  of  life's  duties  than  of  its  recreations ;  devoted  to  his 
adopted  city  which  he  regenerated,  and  to  the  church  of  God 
for  which  he  lived,  until  he  ended  by  a  peaceful  death  his 
apostolic  labors,  having  fought  a  good  fight  and  kept  the 
faith.  His  enemies  said  he  was  "  a  man  of  ice  and  iron ; " 
Melancthon,  Farel,  and  Beza  loved  him  with  a  confiding  affec- 
tion. He  was  a  man  of  spare  but  wiry  frame,  of  keen  yet 
calm  visage,  of  an  inflexible  will  poised  on  truth  and  ever 
pointing  to  duty  like  the  magnet  to  the  pole,  with  an  eagle 
eye  that  saw  afar  yet  saw  minutely,  and  his  device  was  a  hand 
holding  a  burning  heart.f      He  never  spoke  or  wrote  much 

*  Yet  he  says  of  himself,  in  his  preface  to  his  Commentary  on  the  Psalms, 
in  words  which  he  repeated  on  his  dying  bed  :  Ego  qui  natura  timido,  molli 
et  pusillo  animo  me  esse  fateor. 

f  Calvia  used  two  seals,  one  before  1550,  and  the  other  afterwards.     The 


290  CHRISTIAN    UNION   AND    ECCLESIASTICAL   EEUNION. 

about  himself ;  for  lie  was  one  of  the  few  men  so  absorbed  in 
his  work  that  he  esteemed  self  as  a  veiy  little  thing.  He  re- 
formed Geneva;  his  influence  pervaded  Switzerland,  and 
reached  to  Germany,  Holland,  England,  and  Scotland ;  he 
organized  the  Reformed  Church  of  France  ;  he  was,  says 
Eanke,  "  the  virtual  founder  of  the  United  States  of  America ;  " 
he  was,  says  even  Renan,  "  the  most  Christian  man  of  his  day 
in  all  Christendom."  Both  in  French  and  Latin  he  was  master 
of  a  clear  and  cogent  style,  striking  straight  at  the  point  like 
an  arrow  winged  to  the  heart  of  the  ring.  His  unmatched 
Institutes  procured  for  him  from  Melancthon  the  title  of  "  the 
theologian  ;  "  but  it  may  well  be  doubted  whethei-  his  polity 
was  not  his  greatest  and  most  endurino-  work.  His  name  and 
fame  stand  out  more  eminent  and  sharply  defined  as  time  re- 
cedes, just  as  the  loftiest  mountains  seem  to  be  more  distinct 
and  prominent  in  a  distant  than  in  a  near  view.  Well  may 
we  venerate  his  memory.  And  would  that  all  the  Reformed 
Churches  might  honor  him  bj'  resuming  anew  their  common 
historic  name,  by  learning  from  him  more  thoroughly  the 
nature  of  the  church,  which  he  so  carefully  defined,  and  by 
living  in  his  spirit  for  that  union  of  all  Protestant  churches 
which  was  ever  so  near  his  heart. 

His  church  polity  emphatically  organized  the  reform,  and 
gave  it  a  bulwark  against  Rome.  Other  polities  were  shaped 
by  the  times  ;  his  shaped  the  times.  He  drew  his  principles 
from  the  Word  of  God  and  adapted  them  most  wisely  to  his 
epoch.  He  insisted  on  the  universal  priesthood  of  believers 
and  the  parity  of  the  clergy.  To  him  alone  belongs  the  credit 
of  introducino;  rulinu;  elders*  into  the  o-overnment  of  the  Re- 


only  difference  was  that  in  the  former  the  heart  was  held  in  the  left  hand  ; 
in  the  latter  it  is  in  the  right  hand,  offering  it  to  God,  with  the  letters  J.  C. 
Luther's  seal  was  a  rose,  in  which  was  a  heart,  and  on  the  heart  a  cross. 

*  Henry,  Das.  Leben  Calvin's,  3.85.  Of  the  reformers,  "  Calvin  was 
the  first  to  advocate  the  pure  presbyterian  constitution,  the  influence  of 
which  was  afterwards  so  signal."  Neither  Zwingel  nor  Farel  appointed 
ruling  elders.  Calvin  advocated  their  election  in  the  first  edition  of  his 
Institutes,  Iboo. 


EVENTFUL    HISTORY    OF    PRESBYTEKIA.NISM.  291 

formed  churches,  thus  securing  its  popular  and  representative 
character.  At  Geneva  they  were  in  tlie  consistory  twice  as 
many  elders  (sejiiores plehis)  as  ministers.  Though  theGen- 
evese  church  and  state  were  moi-e  closely  connected  than  he 
wished,  yet  he  did  not  allow  the  church  to  interfere  in  respect 
of  doctrine.  This  was  committed  to  Synods,  which  were  also 
intended  to  check  the  license  of  merely  individual  judgments. 
And  thus,  like  a  wise  legislator,  he  organized  the  church  on 
a  basis  combining  authority  with  popular  rights.  And  in 
point  of  fact  Christianity  was  saved  at  the  Reformation,  not 
only  by  a  revival  of  faith  and  the  restoration  of  religion  to 
the  laity ;  not  only  by  putting  the  Bible  as  the  rule  of  faith 
into  the  hands  of  the  people  ;  but  also  by  being  organized 
into  a  church  system  at  once  popular  and  efficient.  For  only 
that  which  is  organized  can  do  the  real  work  of  life  and 
society.  Calvin  had  the  deepest  sense  of  the  rights  and  dig- 
nity of  the  church,  of  which  he  said,  "  we  must  regard  it  as 
one  mother  and  stay  in  it  imtil  we  have  laid  aside  the  body, 
and  come  to  be  like  the  angels." 

The  Presbyterianism  which  he  did  so  much  to  shape  and 
consolidate,  has  had  an  eventful  and  honored  history  (never 
yet  fully  set  forth),  identified  with  the  progress  of  mankind 
and  of  the  Christian  church,  especially  in  those  nations  that 
have  been '  in  the  van  of  the  world's  historic  advance,  con- 
tending for  civil  and  religious  freedom,  and  earnest  in  apply- 
ing Christianity  not  only  to  the  heart  and  the  life,  but  also  to 
the  reform  of  societj' and  the  state.  Modified  here  and  there 
in  some  of  its  details,  it  has  j^reserved  intact  its  essential 
traits,  and  showed  its  power  by  its  ever  fresh  adaptation  to 
new  times  with  their  new  wants.  Wherever  established  it 
put  its  impress  upon  the  character  of  the  people,  because  it 
had  a  character  of  its  own. 

In  our  own  country,  freed  from  entangling  alliance  with  the 
state,  this  polity  has  been  found  to  correspond  admirably  with 
the  genius  of  our  institutions.  Our  church,  made  up  by 
representatives  from  different  countries,  has  to  some  extent 
reunited  here  those  who  in  the  old  world  were  sundered. 


292  CHRISTIAN   UNION    AND    ECCLESIASTICAL    EEUNION. 

And  so  we  have  had  an  American  Presbyterianisni,  not  fash- 
ioned after  any  one  foreign  type.  But  yet  there  are  certain 
characteristics  essential  to  the  system  which  must  be  retained 
and  insisted  on,  especially  in  view  of  a  possible  and  stable 
reunion  of  our  now  divided  chnrches. 

One  of  these  is,  that  a  definite  polity  and  a  definite  creed 
go  together  ;  they  act  upon  and  shape  each  other.  To  a  large 
extent  it  must  hold  good,  that,  as  is  the  polity  so  will  be  the 
creed,  as  the  creed  so  the  polity.  But  upon  this  I  need  not 
enlarge. 

Fresljyterianism  implies  a  high  appreciation  of  the  inherent 
dignity  and  rights  of  the  church  of  Christ,  as  a  visible  insti- 
tution, armed  with  spiritual  power.  As  every  system  must 
have  its  own  practical  habit,  so,  too,  the  church  should  direct 
its  proper  ecclesiastical  work  through  agencies  wisely  adapted 
to  the  times.  And  the  signs  of  the  times  are  teaching  us, 
that  we  need  strong  organizations  to  do  Christ's  work,  to 
repel  infidelity  and  error,  and  to  stand  like  a  rock  amid  the 
insurgent  pressure  of  the  material,  political  and  humanitarian 
tendencies  that  characterize  modern  society. 

Every  living  system  too,  must  have  appropriate  means  for 
its  own  growth  and  discipline.  A  church  ought  to  grow  from 
within,  and  not  by  mere  accretions  from  without.  Individu- 
alism relies  upon  the  conversion  of  adults  in  occasional  revi- 
vals. The  church  should  rely  most  upon  the  nurture  and 
growth  of  its  own  children.  Baptized  children  are  church 
members.  They  ought  not  to  be  received  to  the  communion 
by  the  same  formula  proposed  to  the  unbaptized.  And  it  may 
well  be  questioned  whether  it  is  not  desirable  in  the  case  of 
all  to  return  to  the  older  and  simpler  mode  of  reception,  and 
disuse  the  local  confessions  of  faith,  which  were  first  made 
for  independent  churches  not  united  by  any  common  symbol ; 
bearing  this  too  in  mind,  that  our  standards  are  not  to  be  ap- 
plied to  private  members  with  the  same  strictness  that  they 
are  to  the  ofiicers  of  the  church. 

Our  Presbyterian  system  has  also  a  w^ell-defined  historical 
relation  to  the  civil  as  well  as  the  religious  progress  of  man- 


A   CONDITION    OF   OUK   EEUNION.  293 

kind.  The  Confession  enjoins  obedience  to  lawful  magistrates. 
Our  history  is  liglited  up  with  noble  deeds  and  costly  sacri- 
fices for  civil  as  well  as  religious  liberty.  Our  church  has 
been  patriotic  to  the  core,  and  with  entire  unanimity,  during 
our  present  fearful  national  conflict.  It  has  borne  unqualified 
testimony  against  the  twin  political  heresies  in  which  this 
Titanic  rebellion  originated — tlie  right  of  secession  and  the 
rightfulness  of  the  system  of  American  slavery  ;  for  the  first 
annuls  the  possibility  of  a  stable  state,  while  the  other  is  at 
war  with  the  prime  instinct  and  pi'inciple  of  a  republican 
government.  Our  branch  of  the  church  has  remained  faithful 
to  the  noble  Presbyterian  "  deliverance  "  of  1818,  made  long 
before  our  rupture  and  never  repealed.  Our  very  division 
is  to  be  traced,  more  directly  than  many  suj^pose,  to  an  appre- 
hended collision  on  this  vital  question.* 

And  our  reunion  depends,  more  perhaps  than  on  any  single 
cause,  upon  our  becoming  one  on  this  old  basis.  The  God  of 
the  oppressed,  who  in  ancient  days  commanded  his  people 
once  in  fifty  3'ears  to  proclaim  liberty  throughout  all  the  land, 
unto  all  the  inhabitants  thereof,  has  taken  this  great  cause 
for  a  time  out  of  the  hands  of  politicians  and  out  of  ecclesi 
astical  courts,  and  submitted  it,  by  his  right  as  the  God  of  bat- 
tles, to  the  dread  arbitrament  of  war.  Secession  and  slavery 
are  identified  :  the  union  and  freedom  are  identified.  Lono- 
has  the  contest  been  waged.  Every  defeat  of  our  arms,  and 
every  month's  delay,  have  but  increased  the  certainty  of  the 
final  overthrow  of  that  system  of  oppression  which,  if  any 
ever  was,  is  "  to  destruction  sacred  and  devote."  And  when 
the  year  of  jubilee  for  that  down- trodden  race  has  fully  come, 
and  the  measure  of  our  chastisement  is  full,  then — in  our  re- 

*  The  Assembly  which  met  at  Newark,  N.  J. ,  adopted  a  report  on  slav- 
ery, drawn  up  by  Judge  Matthews,  which  indicates  that  the  difEerences  on 
this  point  are  rajjidly  diminishing.  The  declaration  of  1818  is  reaffirmed  in 
the  strongest  terms.  The  rebellion,  it  is  said,  "  has  taken  away  from  every 
good  man,  every  motive  for  the  farther  toleration  of  slavery."  "  In  our  pres- 
ent situation,  the  interests  of  peace  and  of  social  order  are  identified  with 
the  success  of  the  cause  of  emancipation."  "  The  measures  taken  by  state 
and  national  authorities,  for  its  extirpation,  are  cordially  apjiroved." 


294  CHEISTIAN    UNION    AND    ECCLESIASTICAL    REUNION. 

stored  national  union  more  puissant  than  even  before,  renew- 
ing its  youth  like  an  eagle,  and  rejoicing  as  a  strong  man  to 
run  a  race — then  too,  in  the  restored  union  of  our  churches, 
bound  closer  than  ever  before,  the  grounds  of  their  disruption 
forever  removed — may  we  extol  and  magnify  that  exalted 
justice  tempered  by  an  infinite  love,  which  laid  upon  us  such 
bitter  and  costly  sacrifices  for  our  discipline  and  welfare,  that 
we  might  be  purified  in  the  furnace  of  affliction,  and  prepared 
for  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  man. 

Fathers  and  Brethren  !  Commissioners  to  the  General 
Assembly :  We  have  come  up  to  our  Annual  Assembly  to 
consult  for  the  peace  and  prosperity  of  Zion.  No  rpiestion 
can  come  home  more  closely  to  our  hearts  than  that  of  Chris- 
tian Union  and  Ecclesiastical  Reunion.  It  is  enforced  by  the 
best  memories  of  the  past,  by  our  best  hopes  for  the  future. 
The  consummation  may  be  delayed,  but  we  believe  that  it  will 
surely  come.  Those  that  have  the  same  name  and  the  same 
history  cannot  forever  remain  apart.  We  have  too  many 
precious  memories  in  common.  The  honor  and  glory  of  our 
historical  Presbyterianisra  equally  belong  to  us.  We  recall 
with  just  pride  its  eventful  story,  its  noble  deeds,  its  sti-uggles 
for  civil  and  religious  freedom,  its  grand  old  theology  and 
solemn  covenants  and  confessions,  its  reverend  names  of 
theologians  and  spiritual  heroes,  of  martyi's  and  of  saints,  its 
works  of  evangelical  faith,  its  missions  that  have  stretched 
across  the  continent  and  made  the  circuit  of  the  globe.  These 
are  our  common  heritage,  a  part  of  our  very  life-blood,  glow- 
ing in  our  whole  present  consciousness.  We  have  the  same 
historic  roots  and  the  same  sturdy  trunk  ;  we  bear  the  same 
leaves  and  fiowers  and  fruit ;  and  we  differ,  not  as  one  tree 
differeth  from  another  tree,  but  as  the  branches  of  the  same 
tree  planted  in  the  garden  of  the  Lord. 

If  we  cannot  reunite  on  the  basis  of  our  common  standards, 
what  prospect  is  there  of  reunion  among  aii}^  of  the  divided 
sects  ?  And  if  we  can  but  be  reunited,  what  a  wide  pathway 
is  open  before  us,  what  a  magnificent  work  of  Christian  evan- 
gelism— among  the  teeming  population  of  our  western  prai- 


PEACE   MUST    COME    AFTER   WAK.  295 

ries  ;  in  our  ample  territories  with  tlieir  untold  wealth  of 
silver  and  gold  ;  in  the  new-born  states  that  skirt  the  broad 
Pacific  main  ;  among  the  freednien  of  the  South  still  to  be 
educated  for  freedom;  among  the  diverse  races  of  foreign 
Ijirth,  flocking  even  now  in  crowds  to  our  ports,  and  who  can 
be  moulded  into  one  people  only  by  our  common  American 
Christianity;  over  all  the  broad  expanse  of  this  imperial 
republic,  which  will  be  ambitious  for  material  gain  and  earthly 
conquest,  as  never  was  another  people,  if  it  be  not  penetrated 
and  fashioned  by  the  gospel  of  Christ  as  never  was  another 
people,  and  which  was  baptized  into  Christ  by  our  godly  sires 
in  its  earliest  prime,  that  it  might  lay  the  glories  of  its  youth- 
ful strength,  and  the  conquests  of  its  manly  prime,  and  the 
fruits  of  its  world-wide  C(Mnmerce  at  Imraanuers  feet,  and 
help  to  carry  the  tidings  of  his  salvation  to  the  ends  of  the 
earth. 

We  have  met  to  consult  for  the  peace  and  unity  of  the 
church,  while  the  nation  is  aflame  with  the  blaze  of  civil  war, 
and  every  battle  of  the  warrior  is  with  garments  rolled  in 
blood.  Ofttimes  the  very  air  seems  laden  with  human  grief 
and  speechless  woe,  and  the  burden  weighs  insupportably 
upon  our  souls ;  but  above  all  these  heavy  clouds  of  wrath 
there  is  a  serener  sky  and  a  pitiful  Father.  Weeping  endureth 
for  a  night ;  joy  conieth  in  the  morning ;  and  at  times  the 
light  of  the  morning  seemeth  to  dawn  as  when  the  sun  riseth 
upon  a  morning  without  clouds.  Peace  must  come  after  war ; 
after  disunion  cometh  union.  And  where  can  men  better 
consult  for  peace  and  union,  than  in  an  assembly  of  the 
church  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  is  himself  not  only 
Lord  of  lords  but  the  Prince  of  peace  ?  Speaking  the  truth 
in  love,  we  may  grow  up  into  him  in  all  things,  which  is  the 
head,  even  Christ,  from  whom  the  whole  body,  fitly  joined 
together  and  compacted  by  that  which  every  joint  supplieth, 
according  to  the  effectual  working  in  the  measure  of  every 
part,  maketh  increase  of  the  body  unto  the  edifying  of  itself 
in  love. 

And  let  our  prayer  be  unto  Ilim,  who  of  old  did  lead  his 


29G  CHKISTIAN    rXION   AND    ECCLESIASTICAL   REUNIOJST. 

people  like  a  flock,  by  the  hand  of  Moses  and  Aaron,  the  God 
of  the  covenant ;  and  unto  Him,  who  gave  liimself  for  his 
clinrch,  that  it  might  be  holy  and  without  blame  before  hiui 
in  love  ;  and  unto  the  Holy  Spirit,  the  giver  of  concord  and 
the  living  bond  of  spiritual  unity  ;  that  He  would  so  fill  our 
hearts  and  minds  with  divine  charity,  that  we,  renouncing  all 
false  and  wicked  ways,  may  never  more  profane  his  holy  tem- 
ple with  strife  and  uncharitableness,  but  may  walk  before  him 
in  love,  and  be  at  peace  with  all  who  love  his  name;  that  thus 
may  be  f  alfilled  in  us  our  Lord's  priestly  petition,  that  his  dis- 
ciples might  be  one,  "as  thou.  Father,  art  in  me  and  I  in  thee, 
that  they  may  also  be  one  in  us."  So  may  we  duly  laud  and 
magnify  that  grace  which  triumphs  in  our  wealvuess,  and 
helps  us  when  we  are  lowly  in  heart,  and  which  alone  can 
make  us  to  be  of  one  mind — the  grace  of  the  Father  and  of 
tlie  Son  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  world  without  end.     Amen. 


HAMILTON'S 
THEORY   OF  KNOWLEDGE.* 


In  the  excellent  and  convenient  Boston  edition  of  the  Lec- 
tures of  Sir  William  Plamilton,  we  have  the  philosophical 
legacy  of  the  ablest  representative  of  the  Scottish  school  of 
philosophy,  and  one  of  the  most  illustrious  thinkers  of  the 
nineteenth  century.  Incomplete  as  he  has  left  many  of  his 
works,  they  yet  give  abundant  evidence  of  that  logical  acute- 
ness,  firm  grasp  of  thought,  and  historical  learning  on  recon- 
dite themes,  which  have  made  his  name  famous.  His  new 
Analytic  is  not  fully  developed  ;  but  his  Lectures  on  Logic  are 
the  most  complete  treatise  on  that  subject  in  English  literature. 
His  Philosophy  of  the  Conditioned  is  not  systematically  un- 
folded ;  but  its  principles  are  laid  down  in  a  distinct  and  de- 
finite manner,  and  in  sharp  contrast  with  the  German  specula- 
tions. His  Notes  to  Keid's  Collected  Writings  are  a  store-house 
of  acute  criticism,  and  multifarious  and  precise  learning,  and 
have  made  Reid's  works  to  have  a  double  value;  few  authors 
find  such  an  editor.  His  articles  in  the  Edinhurgh  Revieio  on 
metaphysical  subjects,  accomplished  a  work  to  which  hardly  a 

*  From  the  American  Theological  Review  for  January,  1861. 

Reid's  Collected  Writings.  Preface,  Notes,  and  Supplementary 
Dissertations.  By  Sir  William  Hamilton,  Bart.,  Professor  of  Logic  and 
Metaphysics  in  the  University  of  Edinburgh.     3d  ed.     1853. 

Discussions  in  Philosophy,  Literature,  Etc.  By  Sir  William 
Hamilton.     New  York.     1853. 

Lectures  on  Metaphysics  and  Logic.  By  Sir  William  Hamilton. 
Edited  by  Rev.  H.  L.  Mansel,  and  John  Veitch.  In  Two  Volumes.  Vol. 
J..  Metaphysics.  \So^.Yo\.  11.,  Logic.  1860.  Pp.738,  751.  Boston:  Gould 
(fc  Lincoln. 


298  Hamilton's  theory  of  k:n"owi,edge. 

23arallel  can  be  found  in  periodical  litei-ature.  They  made  all 
England  conscious  of  the  philosophical  relation  of  the  Scotch 
to  the  continental  schools.  When  others  were  dumb  with 
amazement  or  trepidation  in  view  of  the  transcendental 
schemes  of  Teutonic  speculation,  this  intrepid  and  acute 
thinker  presented  himself  within  the  lists,  and  threw  down 
the  gauntlet  against  all  comers — to  vindicate,  on  philosophical 
grounds,  the  philosophy  of  connnon  sense  in  face  of  the 
proud  pretensions  of  the  philosophy  of  the  absolute.  His 
name  and  fame,  in  the  annals  of  philosophy,  are  identified 
with  this  work.  Besides  this,  as  a  teacher  of  philosophy  in 
tiie  University  of  Edinburgh,  he  revived  the  study  of  logic 
and  metaphysics  at  a  time  when  logic  was  neglected  and  met- 
aphysics every  where  spoken  against ;  and  he  ci-eated  an  en- 
thusiastic school,  which  has  able  advocates  in  England  and 
America,  as  well  as  in  Scotland.  His  system  has  now  become 
a  part  of  the  history  of  philosophy ;  and  it  deserves  to  be 
studied,  not  only  because  he  was  one  of  the  most  vigorous 
of  thinkers,  but  because  his  speculations  bear  upon  the  rela- 
tion between  the  Scotch  and  the  German  schools,  and  enter 
into  the  very  heart  of  the  controversy  between  philosophy  and 
faith. 

The  events  of  Sir  William  Hamilton's  outward  life  were  few 
and  simple  ;  nor  are  his  published  works  voluminous  in  com- 
parison with  those  of  most  of  the  great  thinkers.  He  was 
born  in  Glasgow,  March  8,  1788,  a  descendant  of  a  noble 
family.  In  the  University  of  Glasgow,  he  stood  first  in  philo- 
sophy. Becoming  a  student  in  Oxford  (Baliol  College),  he 
there  attained  an  unrivalled  knowledge  of  the  ancient  systems. 
As  a  candidate  for  honors  in  1812,  he  professed  himself  ready 
to  be  examined  upon  all  the  extant  works  of  Greek  and  Roman 
philosoph}' — Plato,  Aristotle,  the  New-Platonists,  etc.  With 
the  chief  scholastic  systems,  and  the  works  of  Descartes  and 
Leibnitz,  he  was  already  familiar.  He  began  the  practice  of 
law ;  but  general  learning  was  his  chosen  field.  His  first  con- 
tribution to  philosophy  was  a  series  of  papers  against  the 
phrenological  hypotheses  of  Combe,  read  before  the  Royal  So- 


SKETCH    OF    SIR    WILLIAM    HAMILTON.  209 

ciety  of  Edinbnrgli  in  1826,  the  fruit  of  a  minute  investigation 
of  craniological  facts.  In  1829  appeared  his  first  elaborate 
metaphysical  article,  against  Cousin  and  all  the  Germans,  pro- 
nouncing the  philosophy  of  the  Absolute  t(j  be  an  hallucination  ; 
and  laying  down  his  fundamental  position,  that  our  ideas  of 
the  Infinite  and  Absolute  are  negative,  the  product  of  an  im- 
becility of  the  mind.  In  1830,  in  the  Edinburgh  Beview,  he 
published  an  essay  on  the  Philosophy  of  Perception,  reducing 
Keid's  doctrine  to  a  more  definite  statement,  and  severely  criti- 
cising the  philosophy  of  Brown.  In  1833  he  wrote  his  arti- 
cle on  Logic,  exposing  the  inaccuracies  of  Whatelj',  and  other 
writers,  and  showing  a  marvellous  acquaintance  with  the  lite- 
rature of  the  subject.  In  these  three  articles,  the  fundamental 
positions  of  his  philosophy  are  already  stated.  II is  system  was 
matured  ;  and  he  was  prepared  to  enter  upon  the  post  of  Pro- 
fessor of  Logic  and  Metaj)hysics  in  the  University  of  Edin- 
burgh, to  which  he  was  chosen,  not  without  a  hard  struggle,  in 
1836.  Sixteen  years  before  he  had  been  an  unsuccessful  candi- 
date for  the  professorship  of  Moral  Philosophy,  to  succeed  Dr. 
Brown — John  Wilson  being  elected  in  his  stead.  lie  ad- 
dressed himself  with  ardor  to  his  new  ofiice,  and  in  two  years 
wrote  out  his  courses  on  Metaphysics  and  Logic,  in  substance 
as  now  published.  This  great  task  could  only  have  been  per- 
formed on  the  basis  of  such  a  preparation  as  he  had  made  in 
almost  all  departments  of  learning.  lie  infused  a  new  spirit 
into  the  lecture-room,  and  trained  his  students  to  independent 
thought :  "  0)1  earth  there  is  nothing  great  hut  tnan  ',  in  man 
there  is  nothing  great  hut  mind'''' — was  the  motto,  which  each 
one  saw  on  entering  his  class.  He  was  now  in  the  fulness  of 
his  mental  vigor ;  and  began  at  once  an  edition  of  Eeid's 
works,  first  published  in  18-16,  and  not  yet  completed,  break- 
ing off  in  the  midst  of  a  note.  The  Supplementary  Disserta- 
tions gave  a  new  phase  to  the  philosophy  of  common  sense, 
and  illustrated  it  with  prodigal  learning. 

In  these  Dissertations,  and  in  the  articles  already  referred  to 
in  the  Edinhurgh  Review^  we  find  the  height  of  his  specula- 
tive development ;  what  is  added  in  the  notes  to  his  Lectures 


300  Hamilton's  theoet  of  knowledge. 

is  chiefly  in  the  way  of  explanation  and  defence.  His  meta- 
jjhysical  system,  as  such,  was  never  fully  carried  out.  The 
most  of  an  attempt  in  this  direction,  is  perhaps  foimd  in  the 
Appendix  to  his  Discussions  on  the  "  Conditions  of  the  Think- 
able Systematized  ;  an  Alphabet  of  Human  Thought."  His 
general  theory  of  knowledge  is  there  applied  to  the  principle 
of  Causality,  as  it  had  been  to  the  Infinite  and  Absolute.  The 
same  work  contains  all  his  otlier  chief  i:)apers — on  Collier's 
Idealism  ;  on  the  study  of  Mathematics,  rating  it  below  logic 
as  a  mental  discipline ;  a  series  of  articles  on  Education,  in 
which  the  abuses  of  the  English  system  are  unsparingly  ex- 
posed ;  a  thorough  discussion  of  the  authorship  of  the  Epistolae 
Obscurorum  Yirorum,  etc.  But  with  all  his  vast  learning, 
dialectic  skill,  and  critical  sagacity,  he  has  left  us  only  frag- 
ments of  the  system  which  he  intended  to  rear.  Parts  of  the 
edifice  are  complete;  the  whole  is  incomplete  ;  and  the  archi- 
tect is  no  more.  It  may  be,  that  on  his  principles,  the  task 
was  superhuman.  On  moral  philosophy,  we  find  only  a  few 
scattered  hints  ;  aesthetics,  as  a  science,  he  never  seems  to  have 
studied  ;  of  metaphysics,  as  distinct  from  psychology,  he  does 
not  give  any  clear  conception  ;  to  the  philosophy  of  histor}^, 
there  is  scarcely  an  illusion  in  all  his  works  ;  on  the  relation 
between  philosophy  and  faith,  a  topic  to  which  all  his  specu- 
lations seemed  inevitably  to  lead  him,  there  are  only  the  most 
general  and  indefinite  statements.  Where  he  speaks  of  theo- 
hjgical  points  with  confidence,  it  is  usually  apparent  that  he 
had  not  made  them  matters  of  thorough  study.  Nothing  can 
be  more  incorrect,  e.  g.,  than  his  strong  statements  about  the 
Assurance  of  Faith,  as  being  the  essence  of  the  Protestant 
doctrine  ;  *  and  on  the  relation  of  freedom  and  decrees,  he 
does  not  get  beyond  the  connnonplaces  of  popular  instruction. 
And,  in  fact,  on  the  general  principles  of  Hamilton's  system, 

*  See  the  British  and  Foreign  Evangelical  Review,  October,  1856,  for  a 
thorough  refutation  of  Sir  William's  misconceptions  and  misstatements  on 
this  point.  He  even  went  so  far  as  to  say,  that  the  doctrine  of  assurance 
being  abandoned,  there  remained  only  a  verbal  dispute  about  justification 
between  Roman  Catholics  and  Protestants. 


PAKTIAL    ACQUxilNTANCE    WITH    HISTOEY    OF    nilLOSOPHY.  301 

as  we  may  see  in  the  course  of  the  discnssion,  it  is  well-nigh 
impossible  to  construct  a  science,  either  of  ethics,  or  of  thec^lo- 
gy  ;  for  absolute  right  and  absolute  being  are  to  him  simply 
inconceivable ;  and  all  that  can  remain  in  either  department 
is  a  body  of  practical  and  regulative  truths,  but  not  a  science, 
based  on  an  idea.  With  all  of  IlamiUon's  immense  learning, 
too,  there  are  parts  of  the  history  of  philosophy  itself  witii 
which  he  does  not  show  any  thorough  acquaintaiice.  lie  stu- 
died Aristotle  minutely  ;  but  Plato  he  seldom  cites,  partly, 
perhaps,  because  lie  felt  no  sympathy  with  the  spirit  of  his 
system.  For  the  same  reason,  it  may  be,  Coleridge  is  almost 
studiously  ignored,  though  Coleridge  was  exerting  in  Eng- 
land an  influence  almost  as  great  as  that  of  Hamilton  in  Scot- 
land ;  they  represented  respectively  the  two  poles  of  specula- 
tive thought.  Even  Comte  and  the  positivists  are  hardly  ever 
named  by  the  Scotch  logician.  In  German  philosophy  he 
had  studied  Kant,  and  received  from  him  an  ineffaceable  im- 
pression ;  but  the  other  great  German  philosophers  he  most  cer- 
tainly had  not  studied.  His  statement  of  Schelling's  system  is 
exaggerated  and  incomplete,  even  in  relation  to  Schelling's 
youthful  speculations  ;  and  that  Schelling  had  a  different 
system  in  his  maturer  years,  seems  to  have  escaped  Hamil- 
ton's notice.  His  references  to  Hegel's  scheme  are  also  very 
vague  and  unsatisfactory,  and  not  such  as  to  indicate  any 
thorough  acqnaintance  with  his  whole  system.  *     The  works 

*  In  his  Dismissions,  p.  31  Note,  Hamilton  says,  that  Hegel's  whole  philoso- 
phy is  founded  "  on  a  violation  of  logic,"  for  "  in  positing  pure  or  absolute 
existence  on  a  mental  datum,  immediate,  intuitive  and  above  proof  (though 
in  truth  this  be  palpably  a  mere  relation,  gained  by  a  process  of  abstraction), 
he  not  only  mistakes  the  fact,  but  violates  the  logical  law,  which  prohibits 
us  to  assume  the  principle  which  it  behoves  us  to  prove."  Are  we,  then, 
to  prove  logically  the  very  first  principle  in  philosophy — the  fundamental 
point  ?  If  so,  how  can  we  ever  start  ?  What  can  we  start  from  ?  Further, 
how  is  the  principle  of  ' '  pure,  absolute  existence,  a  mere  relation  ?  "  Is  it 
not,  in  its  very  nature,  above  all  relations?  And,  besides,  how  is  this  to  be 
reconciled  with  what  Hamilton  himself  says  about  "  Existence  "  in  his  Lec- 
tures on  Metaphysics,  p.  548  :  "  Philosophers  who  allow  a  native  principle 
to  the  mind  at  aU.  allow  that  Existence  is  such  a  principle.  I  shall  there- 
fore   take  foi'  granted  Existence   as   the   highest   category  or  condition  of 


302  Hamilton's  theory  of  knowledge. 

of  those  Germans  who  have  most  vigoronslj  opposed  the  pan- 
theistic speculations,  he  seldom  cites ;  in  fact,  he  uniformly 
speaks  of  the  philosophj^  of  the  Infinite  and  Absolute,  as  if  no 
German,  or  anj^body  else  could  attach  any  other  than  a  pan- 
theistic sense  to  these  cardinal  terras ;  they  mean  with  him 
either  pantheism  or  nothing.  But  yet,  his  learning  in  other 
directions,  and,  on  special  subjects,  was  beyond  any  of  his 
English  contemjioraries,  and,  in  some  departments,  it  probably 
exhausted  all  the  main  sources.  And  his  critical  power,  his 
logical  subtlety,  his  skill  in  definition,  his  comparison  and 
classification  of  differing  theories,  are  always  admirable,  and 
have  been  seldom,  if  ever,  surpassed. 

In  these  general  aspects,  and  in  these  high  intellectual  qual- 
ities, the  reputation  of  Hamilton  is  insured.  He  has  taken 
his  place  in  the  illustrious  line  of  those  great  men  who  have 
given  their  days  and  nights  to  the  search  after  wisdom.  He 
is  identified  with  the  progress  of  logical  and  metaphysical 
science.  His  personal  position  and  rej^utation  among  the 
lovers  of  wisdom  is  elevated  and  unquestionable.  But  the 
chief  interest  that  attaches  to  him,  or  to  any  great  thinker, 
is  not  personal  or  local.  It  is  in  respect  to  his  position 
upon  the  fundamental  problems  of  human  speculation;  il 
is  upon  the  inquiry,  what  has  he  done  for  the  solution  of 
the  highest  questions  about  human  knowledge  and  destiny. 
Wliere  is  he  to  be  here  ranged  ?  Has  he  told  us  anything 
new,  and  anything  better  than  his  predecessors,  upon  the 
relation  of  thought  to  being,  upon  the  relation  of  philos- 
ophy to  faith  ?  Have  f imdamental  truths  been  made  more 
clear,  have  the  final  questions   been  more  sharply  put  and 

thought.  ...  No  thought  is  possible  except  under  this  category.  ...  All 
thought  implies  the  thought  of  Existence.  .  .  .  Let  Existence  then  be  laid 
down  as  a  necessary  form  of  thought."  He  here  explicitly  "  assumes"  the 
very  thing,  which,  as  found  in  Hegel,  he  declares  to  be  "a  violation  of 
logic."  His  statements  are  almost  identical  with  those  of  the  German  phi- 
losopher on  this  very  point.  But,  of  course,  it  makes  all  the  difference  in 
the  world  whether  such  a  principle  be  assumed  by  a  Scotchman  or  a  Ger- 
man. It  is  "necessary"  to  the  former,  but  "a  violation  of  logic"  in  the 
latter.     It  is  common  sense  in  the  one,  and  the  pride  of  reason  in  the  other. 


niS   MASTEEY    OF   THE    SCIENCE    OF   LOGIC.  303 

better  answered,  in  his  system   than   in   those   which  have 
preceded  him  ? 

And  here,  too,  in  relation  to  some  j^arts  of  the  system  of 
philosophy,  his  merits  are  of  the  highest  ordei*.  In  the 
science  of  logic  he  was  unrivalled.  lie  purified  it  of  much 
adventitious  matter,  and  viewed  it  exclusively  as  the  science 
of  the  laws  of  thought  as  thought,  that  is,  as  a  purely  formal 
science.  He  also,  under  this  aspect,  made  additions  to  it, 
which,  we  think,  are  theoretically  correct,  even  though  prac- 
tically they  may  not  be  found  of  gi-eat  utility  ;  particularly  in 
respect  to  the  thorough  quantification  of  the  predicate  in  both 
afiirmative  and  negative  propositions.*  And  though  behind 
his  whole  conception  of  logic,  as  a  formal  science,  there  still 
lies  the  inquiry  as  to  the  relation  of  logical  laws  to  real  truth 
and  being  (which  he  nowhere  formally  discusses) ;  and 
though,  as  we  shall  see,  he  applies  these  mere  logical  laws  to 
the  solution  of  metaphysical  questions  in  a  way  hardly  con- 
sistent with  his  own  principles  ;  yet  still  the  science,  of  which 
Kant  f  declared,  that  since  Aristotle  it  had  not  gone  backward 
and  could  not  go  forward,  has  been  enlarged  and  purified  by 
the  sharp  researches  and  discrimination  of  the  Scotch 
logician.  On  the  question  of  Perception,  too,  in  reference  to 
skepticism  and  idealism,  and  in  its  relations  to  the  qualities 
of  external  bodies,  he  has  made  additions  to  pliilosophy — 
stating  all  the  theories  more  explicitly  and  comprehensively 
than  had  before  been  done.  And  whatever  doubts  may  rest 
upon  the  details  of  his  own  theory, :}:  his  vindication  of  an  im- 
mediate knowledge  of  the  external  world,  and  his  modifica- 
tion of  the  doctrine  of  consciousness  to  meet  this  fact,  and 
his  exposure  of  the  different  schemes  of  hypotlietical  and 
representative  perception,  are  learned,  thorough  and  valuable 
additions  to  philosophical  science.  Had  he  but  applied  the 
same  general  theory  of  knowledge  to  the  "  intelligible  "  or 


*  See  his  conclusive  reply  to  objections  in  the  Appendix  to  his  Lectures 
on  Logic,  pp.  539-546. 

f  Kvitik  der  reinen   Vernnnft,  Vorrede,  p.  viii. 

I  Compare  an  able  article  in  the  Pri/iceton  Becieic,  April,  18G0. 


304  Hamilton's  theory  of  knowledge. 

supersensible  world,  that  he  did  to  the  material  and  sensible. 
h*^  would  have  been  kept  from  some  of  the  most  serious  diffi- 
culties and  objections  to  which  his  metaphysical  system  is 
now  exposed. 

It  is  of  this,  his  metaphysical  system,  that  we  propose  more 
pai-ticularly  to  speak.  The  relation  of  thought  to  being  is  the 
ultimate  problem  of  metaphysical  speculation.  What  are  the 
ultimate  and  necessary  truths  of  human  reason  ?  and,  is  there 
a  reality  corresponding  to  them  ?  These  are  the  two  chief 
questions  of  metaphysics,  as  distinguished  from  psychology, 
which  investigates  the  mind  and  its  powers ;  and  from  all 
empirical  science,  which  studies  and  classifies  external 
phenomena.  And  the  vital  point  with  any  system  of  phi- 
losophy is  upon  these  fundamental  inquiries. 

Hamilton,  now,  on  these  points  professed  to  stand,  goner- 
ally,  on  the  basis  of  the  Scotch  philosophy — admitting  certain 
ultimate  principles  of  belief,  and  contending  for  the  veracity 
of  innnediate  consciousness  in  its  affirmation  of  their  objective, 
as  well  as  subjective,  validity.  He  illustrated  these  positions 
with  profound  learning ;  defined  the  doctrine  of  connnon 
sense ;  showed  that  it  was  legitimate,  and  how  it  was  to  be 
applied  ;  and  set  forth  the  criteria  by  wdiich  its  principles  are 
to  be  tested.  (See  the  Dissertations  appended  to  Reid's 
WoiivS.)  So  far,  so  good.  But  was  this  the  whole  of  his  sys- 
tem ?  Did  he  simply  retreat  and  purify  Reid  and  Stewart  ? 
Did  he  even  accept  these  principles  as  they  did  ?  Their  ul- 
timate philosophy  was  in  them.  Was  Hamilton's  likewise? 
Many  seem  to  think  so ;  although  somewhat  startled  occa- 
sionally by  what  he  says  about  "  the  imbecility  of  the  mind  " 
as  a  source  of  many  of  its  ultimate  truths  ;  about  the  Infinite 
as  a  purely  negative  notion  ;  about  Time  and  Space  as  sub- 
jective conditions  of  thought ;  and  especially  about  causality 
(a  pet  test  of  the  Scotch  ultimate  in  philosophy)  and  sub- 
stance, as  expressing  the  powerlessness  of  the  mind  to  think 
rather  than  any  positive  thought.  But  the  fact  is,  that,  un- 
derlying all  of  Hamilton's  statements  as  to  the  principles  of 
common  sense,  there  is  a  theory  of  knowledge,  entirely  dif- 


HAMILTON    NOT    A   NIHILIST.  305 

ferent  from  any  previously  recognized  in  the  Scotch  school, 
and  derived  chiefly  fi-oni  the  system  of  Kant,  of  which  he  was 
a  thorough  student.  This  theory  came  out  in  connection  with 
Hamilton's  criticisms  of  the  philosophy  of  Cousin  and  the 
Germans.  In  order  to  refute  the  pretensions  of  the  transcen- 
deutal  philosophers  he  took  positions,  which,  we  believe, 
really  undermine  the  main  principles  of  the  Scotch  systems, 
as  rational  and  ultimate.  In  attempting  to  rebut  the  philo- 
soj^hy  of  the  Unconditioned,  he  left  the  philosophy  of  the 
Conditioned  wathout  any  basis  in  man's  rational  nature. 

Instead  of  the  philosophy  of  common  sense,  which  bids  us 
rest  with  an  unquestioning  assurance  upon  the  fundamental 
laws  of  belief,  he  has  given  us  a  system  whi(-li  reduces  all 
thought  to  contradictory  propositions,  both  of  wliich  are  ut- 
terly inconceivable,  yet  one  of  which,  he  says,  we  must  ac- 
cept;  which  resolves '•  conceptions "  of  the  infinite  and  the 
absolute  into  mere  negations  ;  which  declares  that  philosophy 
"  is  at  best  the  reflection  of  a  reality  we  cannot  know,"  and 
that  "  the  last  and  highest  consecration  of  all  true  religion 
must  be  an  altai- — To  the  unknown  and  unknoioahle  Gody 
With  the  philosophy  of  the  absolute,  in  his  interpretation  of 
it,  he  declares  that  he  so  far  agrees,  "  as  to  make  the  knowl- 
edge of  nothing  the  principle  and  result  of  all  true  philoso- 
phy : 

"  Scire  Nildl — studium  quo  nos  laetamur  utrique." 

lie  makes  philosophy  to  be  ultimately  a  "  philosophical  nesci- 
ence," and  exalts  the  "  imbecility  "  and  "  impotence  "  of  the 
mind  into  a  "great  principle,"  by  which  some  of  its  most  im- 
portant phenomena  are  to  be  explained,  and  which,  he  says, 
has  been  "  strangely  overlooked."  This  is  tlie  grand  discovery 
of  his  system  ;  herein  he  is  original.  And  yet,  he  was  not  him- 
self a  nihilist ;  he  was,  on  the  contrary,  a  firm  believer  in  an 
infinite  and  absolute  God,  and,  so  far  as  can  he  judged  from 
incidental  allusions,  in  the  cardinal  doctrines  of  the  Christian 
system.  He  even  insisted  upon  the  impotence  of  thought,  that 
he  might  exalt  the  necessity  of  faith — and  faith,  too,  not  merely 
20 


306  Hamilton's  tiieoey  of  knowledge, 

in  a  religious,  but  in  a  psychological,  point  of  view.  In  the 
hopeless  contradictions  into  which  reason  is  plunged  by  an  in- 
exorable logic,  he  also  descried  a  logical  necessity  for  decid- 
ing in  favor  of  one  of  the  alternatives  ;  and  this  decision  he 
apparently  construes  as  an  act  of  l)elief,  sure  indeed,  but  in- 
scrutable. And  thus  he  endeavored  to  save  his  system  from 
the  sceptical  consequences  which  a  mere  rationalist  would  have 
deduced  from  it.  If  he  taught  that  philosophy  ended  in  ig- 
norance, it  was  in  order  to  enforce  the  lesson,  that  blind  belief 
is  the  beginning,  if  not  the  end,  of  human  wisdom.  It  is  a 
delicate  and  difficult  matter  to  annul  reason  as  to  the  objects 
of  faith  without  undermhiiug  faith.  And  the  main  ques- 
tion respecting  Hamilton's  system  is,  whether  the  method  and 
arguments  by  which  lie  reduced  reason  to  utter  contradictions 
do  not  also  prevent  the  possibility  of  a  rational  faith  ?  In  un- 
dermining the  rationalists,  has  he  not  also  undermined  the  be- 
liever ?  Over  the  grave  of  reason  can  he  erect  any  other  than 
a  sepulchral  monument  to  faith  ?  If  the  infinite  and  absolute 
are  annihilated,  reduced  to  nothing,  in  the  eye  of  I'eason,  has 
not  the  eye  of  faith  also  lost  the  very  objects  of  its  vision  ? 
This  is  the  point  to  which  our  discussion  leads  ;  but  to  come 
to  it  in  an  intelligible  way  we  must  first  expound  the  Ilamil- 
tonian  theory  of  knowledge. 

And  perhaps  we  cannot  better  introduce  this  matter  than 
by  a  statement  of  Hamilton's  relation  to  Kant's  theory  of 
knowledge.  The  oi)ject  of  Kant's  Criticism  of  the  Pure  Rea- 
son was  twofold  ;  on  the  one  hand,  as  against  the  sceptics 
(Hume  and  others),  to  show  that  there  are  in  the  human 
mind  a  jjriori  (or  transcendental)  elements  of  knowledge, 
and  that  these  are  found  in  the  sphere  of  sense,  and  in  the 
laws  of  the  understanding,  as  well  as  in  tlie  ideas  of  reason. 
The  mind,  by  an  internal  necessity,  is  compelled  to  recognize 
these.  On  the  other  hand,  as  against  the  dogmatist,  Kant's 
position  was,  that  even  this  transcendental  (that  is,  a  irriori) 
knowledge  does  not  attain  with  entire  certainty  to  the  nature 
of  things,  to  things  as  they  are  in  themselves.  We  can,  by 
reason,  neither  demonstrate,  nor  yet  disj^rove,  the  real  being 


KANt's   theory   in    ENGLAND    AND    SCOTLAND.  307 

of  objects  corresponding  to  the  ideas  of  reason.  That  is,  the 
ideas  are  necessary,  but  the  objects  are  still  to  be  sought  for. 
The  proof  of  their  existence  is  to  be  on  other  grounds.  Yet, 
at  the  same  time,  if  this  proof  can  be  found  in  any  other  way, 
there  is  nothing  in  reason  to  contradict  it,  or  incompatible 
with  it.  On  the  conti'ary,  since  reason  has  these  ideas  as  its 
vital  and  necessary  substance,  if  we  can  in  any  other  way  make 
out  the  proof  that  there  are  objects  corresponding  to  these 
ideas,  reason  itself  will  welcome  them,  for  these  objects  are 
the  counterparts  of  its  own  ideas.  These  ideas,  now,  are 
those  of  the  Infinite,  of  the  Absolute,  of  God,  of  the  Soul 
and  its  immortality,  of  the  Woi-ld  as  a  real  existence,  etc.  In 
his  Criticism  of  the  Practical  Keason,  Kant  then  gives  the 
proof,  on  moral  grounds,  of  the  real  being  of  God,  the  world, 
etc.  This  is  the  positive  part  of  his  system,  by  which  he 
souglit  to  fill  up  the  void  which  pure  reason  left  in  the  uni- 
verse. But  Kant's  theory,  notwithstanding  these  qualifica- 
tions, has  been  generally  esteemed,  in  England  and  Scotland,* 
to  be  unsatisfactory,  and  even  to  lead  to  scepticism  ;  and  this, 
because  it  denied  to  reason  a  valid  authority  in  the  premises, 
threw  the  burden  of  proof  upon  our  moral  nature  alone,  and 
thus  left  an  apparent  schism  in  the  soul.  His  system  seems 
to  throw  discredit  uj)on  the  three  grand  ideas  of  God,  the 
soul,  and  the  world,  and  to  annul  the  possibility,  so  far  as 
reason  is  concerned,  of  the  three  coiresponding  sciences. 
Theology,  Rational  Psychology,  and  Cosmology.     And  in  tliis 

*  Also  in  France.  Thus  Cousin,  in  his  Philosophie  de  Kant  (p.  318) : 
"Nous  avons  fait  voir  que  la  Critique  de  la  raison  pure,  mal  temperee  par 
celle  de  la  raison  pratique,  n'est  qu'un  scepticisme  inconsequent."  De 
Remusat,  in  his  Essais  de  Philosophie  (p.  419  sq.),  gives  a  correct  general 
view  of  the  position  of  Kant:  "  Son  scepticisme  est  d'un  genre  particulier. 
Kant  nous  defend  egalement  de  douter,  et  d'affirmer,  de  douter  pour  notre 
propre  compte,  et  d'affirmer  pour  le  compte  de  nature.  .  .  .  Kant  ne 
dit  pas  que  les  croyances  objectives  soient  necessairement  des  erreurs ;  ce 
sont  plutot  des  croyances  sans  titres,  des  inductions  gratuites,  que  de  men- 
songi'res  apparences.  Bien  plus,  illusions  on  verites,  elles  sont  inevitables, 
naturelles,  indispensables  ;  le  sens  commun  en  vit.  .  .  .  Le  scepticisme 
de  Kant  est  plein  de  foi,"  etc.— Comp.  Zeitschrift  f.  Philos.  1860,  p.  2-43. 


308  Hamilton's  theory  of  knowledge. 

sense,  too,  it  was  further  developed  in  the  subsequent  German 
specuhitions. 

How  now-  does  Hamilton  stand  related  to  this  theory?  He 
simply  adopts  all  that  Kant  asserts  abont  the  limits  of  reason, 
but  finds  fault  with  him  for  not  going  far  enongh.  He  re- 
gards "  as  conclusive,"  Kant's  analysis  of  Time  and  Space 
into  conditions  of  thought.*  But  he  says,  that  in  making  a 
distinction  between  Reason  and  Understanding,  he  is  griev- 
ously at  fault.  "  Why  distinguish  Reason  from  the  Under- 
standing, simply  on  the  ground  that  the  former  is  conversant 
about,  or  rather  tends  toward,  the  unconditioned ;  when  it  is 
sufficiently  apparent  that  the  unconditioned  is  conceived  only 
as  the  negative  of  the  conditioned,  and  also  that  the  concep- 
tion of  contradictories  is  one."  Further,  Kant  "ought  to 
have  shown  that  the  unconditioned  can  have  no  objective  ap- 
plication, hecause  it  had  in  fact  no  subjective  affirmation — 
that  it  afforded  no  real  knowledge,  because  it  contained 
nothino;  even  conceivable — and  that  it  is  self-contradictory, 
because  it  is  not  a  notion  either  simple  or  positive,  but  a 
fasciculus  of  negations,^''  etc.  In  another  Fragment  (p.  647 
of  the  3feta^?hysics)  Hamilton  speaks  thus:  Kant  "en- 
deavored to  evince  that  pure  Reason,  that  Intelligence,  is 
naturally,    is   necessarily,    repugnant    with   itself,    and    that 

*  Discussions,  p.  23  et  seq.  The  editors  of  Hamilton's  Metaphysics,  in  the 
Appendix,  p.  647,  have  given  "Fragments  from  Early  Papers.  Probably 
before  1836,"  in  which  Hamilton  says  that  his  "doctrine  holds  .  .  . 
that  Space  and  Time,  as  given,  are  real  forms  of  thought  and  conditions  of 
things  ;  "  and  that  Kant's  doctrine  reduced  them  to  "  mere  spectral  forms, 
which  have  no  real  archetype  in  the  noumenal  or  real  universe."  But  Kant 
certainly  held  them  to  be  "  real  forms  of  thought,"  and  the  Discussions 
say,  that  his  analysis  of  them  into  "  conditions  of  thought "  is  "  conclusive." 
If  Hamilton  now  held,  as  this  Appendix  declares,  that  they  are  also  "con- 
ditions of  things,"  how  could  he  regard  Kant's  analysis  <is  "  conclusive?" 
Either  this  Fragment  must  be  of  an  earlier  date  (before  1829,  when  the 
article  on  the  Philosophy  of  the  Unconditioned  was  published),  or  Hamil- 
ton is  quite  inconsistent  in  his  statements.  Besides,  Kant  did  not  assert — 
the  very  spirit  of  his  philosophy  as  critical,  prevented  him  from  asserting — 
' '  that  space  and  time  have  no  real  archetypes "  in  the  external  world. 
Some  of  his  critics  (as  Fries  and  Apelt),  interpret  him  as  allowing  their  ex- 
ternal reality. 


HAMILTON    AND    KANT.  309 

speculation  ends  in  a  series  of  insoluble  antilogies.  In  its 
highest  potence,  in  its  very  essence,  thought  is  thus  infected 
with  contradictions ;  and  the  worst  and  most  pervading  scep- 
ticism is  the  melancholy  result.  If  I  have  done  any  thing 
meritorious  in  philosophy,  it  is  in  the  attempt  to  explain  the 
phenomena  of  these  contradictions,  in  showing  that  they 
arise  only  when  intelligence  transcends  the  limits  to  which 
its  legitimate  exercise  is  restricted ;  and  tliat  within  these 
bounds  (the  Conditioned),  natural  thought  is  neither  fallible 
nor  mendacious." 

These  exti-acts  make  it  apparent,  that,  as  far  as  our  intelli- 
gent nature  is  concerned,  the  philosophy  of  Hamilton  is  a  more 
thorough-going  scepticism  than  that  of  Kant.  He  would 
abolish  the  distinction  between  the  Reason  and  the  Under- 
standing, simply  because  his  theory  leaves  nothing  for  Reason 
to  do,  except  to  gaze  upon  a  blank,  to  meditate  upon  a  nega- 
tion. The  German  left  the  unconditioned,  real  in  the  eye  of 
reason  ;  the  Scotchman,  abolishing  the  object,  finds  no  need 
of  the  organ.  With  the  latter,  the  unconditioned  has  not  even 
"  a  subjective  affirmation."  What  reason,  then,  can  he  give 
for  charging  Kant  with  scepticism,  which  does  not  rebound 
with  fatal  accuracy  upon  himself?  Does  not  he  also  hold, 
"  that  thought  in  its  highest  potence  is  infected  with  contra- 
dictions"— and  contradictions,  too,  that  involve  the  absolute 
negation  of  the  unconditioned  ?  If  these  contradictions  led 
Kant  to  "  the  worst  and  most  pervading  scepticism,"  how  can 
they  do  otherwise  with  Hamilton  ?  His  plea  here  is  curious. 
He  avoids  the  scepticism  by  saying,  that  these  contradictions 
only  show  that  "  intelligence  has  transcended  its  legitimate 
exercise."  Of  course,  there  cannot  be  any  scepticism  about 
the  unconditioned,  if  we  have  no  idea  of  it ;  this  is  nihilism 
and  not  scepticism.  No  contradiction  remains,  when  one  of 
the  terms  is  abolished.  The  procedure,  thougli  violent,  is  con- 
clusive. But,  as  between  Kant  and  Hamilton,  the  matter 
stands  simply  thus :  Kant,  affirming  the  subjective  necessity 
of  the  unc(»nditiuned,  leaves  room  for  proof,  on  any  other 
grounds  than  tliat  of  Pure  Reason,  of  a  reality  corresponding 


310  Hamilton's  theory  of  knowledge. 

to  the  idea;*  but  IlamiltoH,  resolving  the  unconditioned  into 
an  "  inconceivability,"  a  "  negation,"  leaves  no  such  room  ;  if 
you  attempt  the  proof  you  have  not  got  anything  positive  to 
prove.  You  want  to  prove  the  existence  of  God  as  uncon- 
ditioned. Kant  says  you  may,  because  the  unconditioned  is 
a  reality  in  thought ;  Hamilton  must  say,  the  attempt  is  futile, 
because  you  are  to  prove  something  utterly  incouceivable,  a 
nonentity  to  thought.  We  do  not  agree  with  Kant's  view  of 
the  unconditioned,  as  having  merely  a  subjective  rational 
necessity  ;  we  do  not  see  why  Pure  Reason  may  not  give  us 
the  objective,  as  much  as  the  Pi-actical  Reason  ;  why  the 
former  is  any  more  subjective  than  the  latter.  But  yet  it 
seems  to  us  that  Kant's  jjosition  is  every  way  preferable  to 
Hamilton's.  The  latter  is  here  not  only  not  Scotch,  but  more 
Kantian  than  Kant  himself,  on  the  very  point  most  open  to 
objection  in  the  German  system.  Kant,  allowing  that  Pure 
Reason  asserts  the  subjective  validity  and  necessity  of  our 
highest  rational  ideas,  left  room  for  practical  reason  to  affirm 
their  objective  validity,  and  for  a  reconciliation  of  the 
subjective  and  objective.  Hamilton,  denying  the  subjective 
authority,  and  even  reality,  of  these  ideas,  making  reason  to 
deny  them,  leaves  no  chance  for  our  moral  nature  to  affirm 
them,  witliout  setting  itself  in  opposition  to  our  rational 
nature.  All  that  Hamilton  can  affirm,  at  the  utmost,  is, 
that  we  believe  in  "the  incognizable  and  the  inconceivable;  " 
while  Kant  could  say,  we  believe  in  the  objective  reality 
of  that  which  reason  also  stamps  as  necessary  and  true  to 
itself. 

Put  the  views  of  Hamilton,  as  a  consistent  and  logical 
thinker,  run  back  into  his  general  theory  about  the  powers  of 
the  mind  and  the  7iature  of  knowledge.     His  metaphysical 

*  ThiTs  Kant  in  his  Prolegomena  zur  Metaphysik,  iii.,  §  60,  says :  "  These 
transcendental  ideas,  even  if  they  do  not  directly  contribute  to  a  positive 
knowledge  (of  vs^hat  is  objective),  are  still  of  service  in  annulling  the  inso- 
lent assertions  of  materialism,  naturalism,  and  fatalism,  which  contract  the 
field  of  reason — and  thus  they  gain  a  foothold  for  our  moral  ideas,  beyond 
the  sphere  of  mere  speculation."  Now  this  advantage,  restricted  though  it 
be,  is  just  what  is  forfeited  on  the  basis  of  Hamilton's  theory. 


HAMILTON  S    PSYCHOLOGY. 


311 


system  rests  upon  his  psychology  and  his  logic ;  and,  in  fact, 
his  logic  determines  his  metaphysics. 

The  first  point  in  his  psychology,  significant  of  the  charac- 
ter of  his  system,  is  his  denial  of  any  real  distinction  between 
the  Keason  and  the  Understanding ;  not  merely  a  denial  of  the 
propriety  of  applying  these  terms  to  different  functions,  or  re- 
lations, of  the  intelligence  (for  the  word  is  here  of  small  ac- 
count), but  his  denial  that  there  is  any  such  specific  difference 
in  the  mode  of  our  intelligent  or  intellectual  activity,  as  may 
be  denoted  by  these  words.  Accordingly,  he  calls  upon  his 
class  at  one  time  to  remark,  that  he  avoids  the  use  of  the  term 
"idea;"  his  words  for  the  highest  acts  or  objects  of  thought 
are  "  concept"  or  "  notion."  His  reason,  now,  for  abolisliing 
this  distinction  is  hinted  at  in  the  passage  above  cited  from 
his  Discussions  ;  he  will  not  allow  reason  to  be  a  distinguisha- 
ble capacity,  because  its  alleged  objects  (the  Infinite  and 
Absolute,  etc.),  are  merely  negations  of  thought ;  and  we  do 
not,  of  course,  require  a  special  power  to  know  a  negation — 
"the  knowledge  of  contradictories  is  one." 

But  does  he  not,  it  may  be  asked,  allow  the  existence  of  a 
capacity  to  apprehend  necessary  truths,  and  call  by  the  name 
of  Common  Sense,  or  the  Eegulative  Faculty,  what  others 
call  the  Keason?  And  does  he  not  expressly  identify  the 
two?  (See  Metaphysics,  p.  277,  285,  681.)  And  does  he  not 
also  call  this  the  locus  j^rincijyioriim  ?  He  does  this  :  but, 
under  what  restriction  and  condition  ?  Simply,  under  the 
restriction,  that  the  highest  capacity  of  the  intelh'gence  shall ' 
be  "  cabin'd  and  confined  "  to  the  conditioned :  and  that  all 
the  unconditioned  shall  be  thrown  out  as  a  negative  quantity. 
H  Kant  had  only  done  this,  he  says,  he  would  have  attained  to 
the  true  philosophy,  and  modified  all  his  categories  {Discus- 
sions, p.  25  ;  Metajj/ujsics,  p.  681),  and  "  given  a  totally  new 
aspect  to  his  Critique^'^ :  which  is  undoubtedly  true. 

Does  he  not  also,  it  is  inquired,  recognize  the  existence  of 
universal  and  necessary  truths,  and  even  "anxiously"  insist 
upon  them  ?  There  is  no  room  for  doubt  here,  either.  But  he 
introduces  a  "  new  "  kind  of  necessity,  which  "  all  preceding 


312  Hamilton's  theory  of  knowledge. 

philosophers  "  have  overlooked,  viz.,  "  a  negative  necessity,"  a 
necessity  springing,  not  from  the  mind's  power,  but  from  its 
powerlessneso ;  and  under  this  negative  necessity,  which  simply 
means,  that  the  mind  cannot  think  them,  he  puts  the  substantial 
elements  of  i-eason.    Thus  in  his  Metaphysics^  p.  526,  when  dis- 
cussing the  principle  on  which  our  ultimate  cognitions  are  de- 
pendent, he  grants  that  "  the  quality  of  necessity  "  is  what  dis- 
criminates a  '•'  native  from  an  adventitious  notion."    But  "  it  is 
evident,  that  the  quality  of  necessity  in  a  cognition  may  de- 
pend on  two  different  and  opposite  principles,  inasmuch  as  it 
may  either  be  the  result  of  a  power,  or  of  a  powerlessness,  of 
the  thinking  principle."    Mathematical  truths,  the  "  notions" 
of  existence,  space  and  time,  and  the  logical  rules,  are  positive. 
"  But  besides  these  there  are  other  necessary  forms  of  thougiit, 
which  by  all  philosophers  have  been  regarded  as  standing  on 
precisely  the  same  footing,  which  to  jne  seem  to  be  of  a  totally 
different  kind.     In  place  of  being  the  result  of  a  power,  the 
necessity  which  belongs  to  them   is  merely  a  consequence  of 
the  impotence  of  our  faculties."      And  then  he  goes  on  and 
applies  this  to  space  and  time,  as  infinite  or  absolute,  and  to 
causality ;  and  says  it  likewise  applies  to  the  idea,  or,  as  he 
would  say,  "  notion  "  of  substance.     All  these,  and  kindred 
truths,  belong  to  common  sense,  simply  under  the  category 
of  imbecility  and  inconceivability.       Is  this  good,  sound,  old- 
fashioned  Scotch  philosophy  %    And  he  is  here  almost  right  in 
intimating,  that  "all  philosophers  "  have  had  an  entirely  dif- 
ferent view.     Most,  even  of  the  empirical  philosophers,  have 
been  content  with  trying  to  prove   that  we  have  no  faculty 
by  which  we    can    know  the   highest    spiritual    truths  ;  but 
here  is  a  more  dexterous  method  ;  if  all  the  appropriate  ob- 
jects of  the  faculty  are  annihilated  in  the  view  of  reason,  all 
that  I'emains  for  any  supposed  facult}^  to  do  is  to  gaze  upon  an 
empty  void — certainly  a  very  unprofitable  performance,  even 
for  a  philosopher.    The  very  grandeur  of  the  human  mind,  by 
the  consent  of  the  greatest  thinkers   and  theologians  of  all 
times,  has  been  made  to  consist  in  its  power  of  knowing  the 
real  being  of  an  Infinite  and  Absolute  First  Cause.    Its  weak- 


A    GREAT    UNDEKLTING    QUESTION.  313 

ness  has  been  put  in  the  capacity  of  fathoming  what  it  yet 
knows  as  the  most  real  and  positive  of  beings.  But  Hamil- 
ton transforms  its  power  into  a  powerlessuess,  its  grandeur 
into  an  imbecility. 

And  there  is  here  a  great  underlying  question,  with  which 
lie  never  grapples,  though  it  is  cardinal  in  psychology.  Is  it  not 
of  the  very  nature  of  Reason  to  have  an  immediate  knowledge 
or  vision  of  spiritual  truth  and  being,  even  as  perception  gazes 
upon  and  knows  directly  the  phenomena  of  sense  ?  Is  not  the 
knowledge  of  spiritual  things  as  immediate  and  as  real  (to  say 
the  least)  as  the  knowledge  of  material  things  ?  If  in  percep- 
tion, as  Hamilton  so  cogently  shows,  we  are  immediately  cog- 
nizant (even  conscious  of)  an  external  reality  ;  are  we  not  also 
cognizant,  in  as  direct  a  way,  of  what  is  above  the  limitations 
of  time  and  sense  ?  lie  has  proved,  that  no  fictions  of  ideas 
intervene  between  perception  and  its  objects.  The  same  theory 
of  knowledge,  applied  hi  the  spiritual  domain,  would  lead  to 
a  like  inference  as  to  the  truths  and  facts,  which  he  so  violently 
banishes  into  the  sphere  of  negations — as  if  they  were  the 
products  of  a  logical  art,  born  of  the  principle  of  contradic- 
tion. On  any  consistent  theory  of  knowledge,  the  ideas  of 
reason  are  no  more  subjective  than  the  perceptions  of  sense. 
All  knowledge  implies  an  object  as  well  as  a  subject.  Human 
reason  is  not  the  seat,  so  much  as  it  is  the  organ,  of  principles  ; 
just  as  sense  is  not  the  seat  of  phantasms,  but  the  organ 
by  which  we  know  phenomena.  By  a  higher  right  than  can 
be  claimed  in  the  philosophy  of  perception  for  a  real  knowledge 
of  its  objects,  we  may  also  claim,  that  reason  beholds  its  objects 
with  an  unveiled  face.  The  phantasms  of  the  schools  have 
been  swept  away  from  the  theory  of  natural  visioji ;  but  those 
other  phantasms,  the  abstractions  of  sense  mistaken  for  the 
realities  of  reason,  still  remain  to  perplex  our  vision  and  our 
philosoph}'. 

The  bearing  and  relation  of  the  Ilamiltonian  theoi-y  will  be- 
come still  more  apparent,  when  we  consider  his  more  precise 
statements  about  thought  or  knowledge.  They  are  all  shaped 
by  the  same  bias  ;  and  they  are  in  the  main  consistently  shaped. 


314  Hamilton's  theory  of  knowledge. 

In  the  Appendix  to  his  Discussions  (p.  567,  sq.)  is  an  articulate 
statement  of  the  Conditions  of  the  Thinkctble  Systematized  : 
Ali)hahet  of  Human  Thought^  containing  his  "matured" 
views.  All  thinking  is  here  distributed  first  of  all  into  Nega- 
tive and  Positive.  Thinking  is  negative  (i.  e.,  "  a  negation  of 
thought  ")  when  existence  is  not  mentally  affirmed = Nothing. 
This  negative  thinking  is  of  two  kinds,  inasmuch  as  the  one 
or  the  other  of  the  conditions  of  positive  thinking  is  violated. 
Tliese  conditions  are  non-contradiction  and  relativity.  Yio- 
lating  the  condition  of  non-contradiction,  we  have  the  really 
imjwssible  (nihil  pui'um).  Violating  the  condition  of  relativ- 
ity, we  have  the  inconceivahle  (nihil  cogitabile) ;  "  what  may 
exist,  but  what  we  are  unable  to  conceive  existing.  This  im- 
possible, the  schools  have  not  contemplated."  It  is  under 
this  last,  that  the  unconditioned,  the  absolute,  cause,  etc., 
come.  They  are  simply  inconceivable — impossible  to  thought. 
What  now  \'s,  positive  thinking  or  thought  %  His  general  state- 
ment is,  "  Thinking  is  Positive  (and  this  in  propriety  is  the 
only  real  thought),  when  existence  is  predicated  of  an  ol)ject." 
It  can  be  brought  to  bear  only  under  two  conditions  :  1.  Non- 
contradiction ^  2.  Relativity.  As  to  the  first.  Non-contradic- 
tion— this  condition  is  insuperable  ;  it  is  a  law  of  thought  as 
well  as  of  things.  To  violate  it,  gives  the  impossible  ;  to 
satisfy  it  gives  only  the  Not-im])Ossihle.  It  involves  three 
laws  :  the  logical  laAvs  of  Identity.,  Contradiction^  and  Ex- 
cluded middle.  That  is,  there  is  no  thought,  no  thinking, 
excepting  as  conformed  to  the  laws  of  logic  ;  the  logical  ]a\vs 
are  the  metes  and  bounds  of  thinking.  The  other  condition 
of  positive  thought  is  relativity — "  the  conditionally  I'elative, 
and  not  the  absohitely  or  infinitely  relative."  This  is  not  a 
law  of  things,  but  of  thought;  ''for  we  find  that  there  are 
contradictory  opposites,  one  of  which,  by  the  rule  of  Excluded 
Middle,  must  be  true,  but  neither  of  wliich  can  by  us  be  posi- 
tively thought,  as  j)ossible."  Under  this  come  (omitting  the 
divisions)  the  necessar}'  and  primary  relations  of  Self  and  Not- 
self,  Substance  and  Quality,  Time,  Space,  and  Degree,  and  a 
host  of  contino-ent  or  derivative  relations. 


WHAT  THE  THEORr  AMOUNTS  TO.  315 

Snch  is  Hamilton's  general  theory  of  knowledge,  apart  from 
its  application  to  particnlar  points.  It  is  repeated  substan- 
tially ill  the  same  form  in  different  parts  of  his  Works — with 
additional  ilhistrations  in  his  Metaphysics,  j).  526,  seq.,  C79- 
6S1,  and  Logic,  Lectures  v.  and  vi. ;  it  is  also  at  the  basis  of 
Mansel's  Prolegomena  Logica,  and  of  his  Lectures  on  the 
Li7nits  of  Religious  Thoxtght.  It  is  the  theory  of  knowledge, 
on  the  ground  of  which  all  tliouglit  of  the  Infinite  and  Abso- 
lute is  demonstrated  to  be  impossible.  This  particular  ap- 
plication of  it  we  do  not  yet  consider,  but  would  now  only 
inquire  whether  this  be  a  correct  tlieory  of  all  thought  or 
thinking. 

In  this  theory  it  is  supposed  that  all  possible  knowledge  is 
included.  And  what  the  theory  amounts  to  is  this — that  all 
real  thought  is  either  logical  thinking,  or  the  thouglit  only  of 
relations.  If  the  logical  laws  are  viohited,  we  have  the  Teally 
impossible :  if  the  law  of  relativity  is  violated,  we  have  the 
imjiossihle  to  thought  (nihil  cogitabile).  As  far,  now,  as  the 
logical  laws  are  concerned  (resting  on  the  principle  of  contra- 
diction, or  rather,  of  non-contradiction),  these  can  only  give  a 
necessity  of  thought,  but  cannot  give  a  knowledge  of  exist- 
ence. As  Hamilton  himself  says,  the  argument  from  Con- 
tradiction is  "  negative,  but  not  positive  ;  it  may  refute,  but 
it  is  incompetent  to  establish.  It  may  show  what  is  not,  but 
never  of  itself,  what  is."  And  further :  "  It  analyses  what  is 
given,  but  does  not  originate  information,  or  add  anytliing, 
through  itself,  to  our  stock  of  knowledge."  In  short,  it  may 
be  a  negative  test,  but  cannot  be  a  positive  source  of  knowl- 
edge. If  I  want  to  find  out  whether  I  have  an  idea  of  any- 
thing as  existent,  or  as  real,  logic  cannot  tell  me :  the  appeal 
must  be  to  what  is  before  or  beliind  all  logic,  that  is,  to  im- 
mediate consciousness.  All  that  these  logical  laws  can  do,  is 
to  keep  me  from  applying  contradictory  predicates  to  any 
existence.  But  the  materials  upon  which  logic  works  must 
all  be  taken  from  some  other  source  than  itself.  LCnowledge 
is  not  derived  from  these  logical  laws  ;  ideas  are  not ;  truths 
ai'e  not ;  intuitions  are  not,  etc.     This  is  so  evident,  as  soon 


316  Hamilton's  theory  o?  knowledge. 

as  the  nature  and  province  of  logic  are  correctly  grasped, 
that  it  would  hardly  be  necessary  to  dwell  upon  it,  had  not 
Hamilton  (as  may  aj^pear  in  the  sequel)  hiuiself  urged  these 
logical  laws  beyond  their  strict  and  proper  application. 

The  other  form  or  mode  of  positive  thought  is  that  of  rela- 
tivity,  or  the  knowledge  of  relations.  And  in  Hamilton's 
scheme,  as  he  Ipmself  expounds  it,  this  mode  of  knowledge  is 
the  only  real  knowledge  of  existence  which  man  can  have. 
Here  is  the  grand  assumption  contained  in  this  Alphabet  of 
Human  Thought.  All  ajfirmatio a  of  existence  which  the  mind 
can  make,  all  that  it  can  conceive  to  exist,  is  in  relations,  is 
that  which  is  relative.  All  else,  all  but  relations,  it  is  in  the 
very  nature  of  thought  impossible  to  think — that  is,  to  affirm 
that  it  exists.  He  does  not  merely  say  that  the  mind  camiot 
grasp  or  comprehend  anything  but  relations;  but  he  says, 
that  thought  cannot  affirm  the  existence  of  anything  but  re- 
lations. All  else  is  "  impossible  to  thought."  This  assump- 
tion is  the  underlying  principle  of  the  whole  theory.  In  its 
nature  and  consequences  it  deserves  a  careful  consideration. 

It  is  difficult  to  say  just  what  Sir  W.  Hamilton  means  by 
the  proposition,  that  all  our  knowledge  is  only  relative.  Some- 
times he  uses  it  as  equivalent  to  the  statement,  that  we  can 
know  only  what  is  related  to  us  (subjective);  sometimes  as 
meaning,  that  we  can  know  only  relations,  or  phenomena — iu 
distinction  from  knowing  the  essence  or  substance  ;  sometimes, 
and  most  frequently,  he  means  by  it,  that  we  can  be  cogni- 
zant only  of  the  relative,  the  finite,  the  phenomenal,  in  dis- 
tinction from,  or  in  opposition  to,  a  knowledge  of  the  absolute 
and  the  infinite.  In  his  summary  about  it  {Metaj)hijsiGs,  p. 
lOtt)  he  says  "  that  knowledge  is  relative  ;  1°.  Because  exist- 
ence is  not  cognizable,  absolutely  and  in  itself,  but  only  in 
special  modes.  2°.  Because  these  modes  can  be  known  only 
if  they  stand  in  a  certain  relation  to  our  faculties.  3°.  Be- 
cause the  modes,  thus  relative  to  our  faculties,  are  presented 
to,  and  known  by,  the  mind  only  under  modifications  deter- 
mined by  these  faculties  themselves."  On  p.  102,  in  introdu- 
cing the  subject,  he  says :    '•  That  whatever  we  know  is  not 


WE    KNOW    ONLY    THE    RELATIVE.  317 

known  as  it  is,  hut  only  as  it  seems  to  us  to  he.''''  And  in  the 
Appendix,  pp.  QSS,  689,  he  lias  a  further  statement  of  the 
"  doctrine  of  Relation,"  written  in  connection  with  a  proposed 
Memoir  of  Mr.  Stewart,  in  which  he  states  (in  substance)  that 
'•  every  Relation  supposes  at  least  two  things,  or,  as  they  are 
called,  terms  thought  as  relative  ;  "  that  "  a  relation  is  a  uni- 
fying act— a  synthesis  ;  but  it  is  likewise  an  antithesis ;  " 
and  that  "relatives  are  severally  discriminated;  inasmuch 
as  the  one  is  specially  what  is  referred,  the  other  what  is  i-e- 
ferred  to" — the  relative  and  correlative;  and  further,  "that 
relations  always  coexist  in  nature  and  in  thought" — so  that 
"  we  cannot  conceive,  we  cannot  hum,  we  cannot  define  the 
one  relative,  without,  pro  tanto,  conceimng,  hiowing,  defin- 
ing also  the  other  ; '^  and  this  he  says,  is  "equivalent  to  a 
declaration  that  the  Absolute  (the  non-Relative)  is  for  us  in- 
cogitable,  and  even  incognizable."  In  another  passage  {Dis- 
cussions, p.  574)  he  makes  the  knowledge  of  the  relative  to 
be  a  synonym  for  a  knowledge  of  "  tiie  conditioned,  the  phe- 
nomenal, the  finite."  Taking  these  various  statements  to- 
gether, what  is  the  purport  of  the  doctrine  that  we  know  only 
the  Relative  ? 

So  far  as  it  asserts,  in  general  terms,  that  we  can  know  only 
what  is  related  to  us  and  our  faculties,  it  is  doubtless  true,  and 
almost  a  truisuL  All  knowledge  implies  and  involves  a  rela- 
tion between  the  subject  known  and  the  object  known. 
The  act  of  knowing  can  be  construed  only  under  this  relation. 
But  this  manifestly  decides  nothing  as  to  the  character  of  the 
objects  known  ;  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  propositions, 
that  'we  can  know  only  relations  and  not  substances,  or,  that 
we  can  know  only  the  relative  and  not  the  absolute.  It  only 
says,  that  we  cannot  know  anything,  be  it  relations  or  sub- 
stances, the  relative  or  the  absolute,  without  an  act  of  know- 
ledge in  relation  to  it.  In  knowing  the  absolute,  for  exam- 
ple, a  relation  between  us  and  the  absolute  is  implied — that  is 
the  relation  of  knowing.  It  amounts  to  saying,  that  we  can- 
not know  anythinoj  witliout  knowinir  it. 

But  let  us  advance  another  step.     The  doctrine  of  relative 


818  Hamilton's  theory  of  knowledge. 

knowledge  may  also  mean,  that  what  we  know  is  known  only 
nnder  the  modifications  imposed  by  onr  facnilties  themselves, 
that  is,  tlie  subject  determines  the  object.  This  is  carried  to 
its  extreme  in  tlie  statement  of  Hamilton  (above),  "■  that  what- 
ever we  know  is  not  kiiown  as  it  is,  but  only  as  it  seems  to  us 
to  hey  The  doctrine  of  relative  knowledge  then  means,  that 
we  do  not  know  any  thing  as  objectively  real,  but  sim23ly  as 
liaving  a  subjective  validity  and  worth.  But  Hamilton's  doc- 
trine of  perception,  that  we  are  immediately  cognizant  of  the 
objective,  is,  it  seems  to  ns,  opposed  to  this.  And  the  true 
theory  of  knowledge  is  also  opposed  to  it.  To  be  sure,  we 
know  only  through  and  by  our  faculties ;  but  may  not  our 
faculties  be  such  as  to  give  us  a  direct,  an  immediate  knowl- 
edge of  objective  reality  whether  material  or  spiritual?  The 
medium  is  transparent.  This  is  the  case  with  all  intuitions. 
In  all  real  knowledge  the  object  determines  the  subject,  as 
much  as  the  subject  the  object.  The  mind  can  know  what  is 
entirely  different  from  itself ;  and  this  Hamilton  himself 
concedes,  when  arguing  about  perception.  {Metaj)hysics,  p. 
351,  401,  seq.)  The  position,  "  tliat  whatever  we  know  is  not 
known  as  it  is,  but  only  as  it  seems  to  us  to  be,"  also  resolves, 
in  its  very  statement,  all  knowledge  into  an  illusion,  and.  a 
conscious  illusion  to  boot.  We  know  that  we  know  only  the 
seeming ;  how  can  we  know  this,  unless  we  also  know  that 
there  is  a  difference  between  the  seeming  and  the  real  ?  and 
how  can  we  know  that  there  is  a  real,  if  all  that  we  know 
or  can  know  is  only  a  seeming?  Subjective  idealism  is  the 
only  consistent  result  of  this  theory  of  knowledge.  And,  at 
any  rate,  granting  the  theory,  it  is  still  something  very  diverse 
fi'om  the  positions,  that  we  can  know  only  relations  or  only 
the  relative.  It  does  not  begin  to  prove  either  of  these 
positions.  For,  though  the  mind  can  know  only  in  a  knowing 
relation,  and  though  it  can  know  only  under  the  modification 
of  its  faculties — the  whole  question  remains,  xVre  these  fac- 
ulties such  that  they  can  be  cognizant  objectively  only  of  re- 
lations or  of  the  relative  ?  And  even  if  it  were  shown  that 
we  could  know  only  relations,  it  is   still  to  be  proved  that 


CAN    THE    ]\nND   KNOW    ONLY    RELATIONS  ?  319 

we  can  also  know  only  the  relative  (in  distinction  from  the  ab- 
solute). 

Can  the  mind,  then,  know  only  relations  of  objects?  That 
is  the  next  possible  sense  of  the  theory  of  relative  knowledge. 
The  proposition  here  is  in  respect  to  relations  among  the  ob- 
jects of  knowledge,  and  not  to  the  relation  between  the  subject 
knowing  and  the  object  known.  But  here,  again,  very  differ- 
ent affirmations  may  be  confounded  and  need  to  be  distin- 
guished. The  mind  is  cognizant  only  of  the  relations  of  ob- 
jects; this  may  mean,  that  as  all  objects  are  rehated  to  each 
other,  the  mind  knows  the  objects  only  in  these  their  relations ; 
or  it  may  mean,  that  the  mind  knows  only  the  relations  of  ob- 
jects, and  not  the  objects  themselves — only  tlie  phenomena 
and  not  the  essence  or  substance. 

That  Hamilton,  under  relative  knowledge,  included  the  first 
of  these,  is  apparent  from  his  scheme  of  relativity  (Discussions, 
J).  567),  where  substance  and  qualit}',  degree,  etc.,  are  adduced 
as  instances  of  relativity;  from  his  express  statement  (p.  569) 
that  "  the  relations  of  existence  "  (that  is,  the  relations  "  in  the 
object  of  knowledge,  the  thing  thought  about "),  are  what  he 
refers  to.  And  here  what  is  true  in  the  theory  is  perhaps  to 
be  found.  All  the  objects  of  existence  and  of  knowledge  are 
presented  to  us  in  relations ;  no  object  in  being  or  in  thought 
is  isolated,  is  unrelated.  And  we  know  the  objects,  too,  in 
part,  in  a  great  measure  it  may  be,  in  and  through  'these  their 
relations.  But  this  docs  not  prove  that  we  know  only  the  phe- 
nomena and  not  the  substance,  only  the  activity  and  not  the 
agent,  only  the  relations  and  not  the  objects.  And  this  last 
proposition  is  the  one  which  the  theory  requires.  In  reference 
to  and  against  it  we  urge  the  following  considerations. 

It  does  not  follow  (1)  from  the  position,  that  in  all  know 
ledge  there  is  a  relation  of  the  knowing  subject  to  the  object 
known.  There  may,  there  must,  be  such  a  relation  ;  but,  then, 
why  may  not  the  relation  as  well  be  a  direct  one  between  the 
knower  and  the  object,  as  between  the  knower  and  the  rela- 
tion ?  (2)  An  immediate  knowledge  of  relations  is  just  as 
difficult  to  be  conceived  as  an  immediate  knowledge  of  the 


320  Hamilton's  theory  of  knowledge. 

objects.  If  we  can  know  relati(^iis  directly  and  simply,  tliei-e 
is  nothing  in  the  natnre  of  knowledge  to  prevent  ns  from 
knowing  the  objects  as  well.  While,  if  all  knowledge  is  re- 
duced to  snl)jectivity  (if  the  subject  determines  the  object), 
we  can  no  more  know  objective  relations  truly  than  any  thing 
else ;  and  vet  Hamilton  implies  that  we  can  truly  know  these 
relations.  (3)  The  knowledge  of  the  relations  of  things  is,  in 
many  cases,  precisely  the  most  difficult  and  inscrutable  part 
of  all  our  knowledge.  Thus,  the  relation  of  self  and  not-self, 
that  of  sul)stance  and  phenomena  even,  that  of  subject  and 
its  atti'ibutes,  the  relations  of  body  and  soul,  the  relation  of 
time  to  eternity,  of  bounded  to  absolute  space— here  are  some 
of  the  most  difhcult  and  inscrutable  questions  which  perplex 
philosophy.  (4)  It  is  utterly  inconceivable  that  we  should 
know  a  relation,  when  in  ignorance  of  what  is  related  (i.  e.,  of 
the  related  objects).  It  is  the  objects  themselves  that  go  to 
make  np  the  relation.  Such  knowledge  would  be  like  a 
knowledge  of  the  copula  between  a  subject  and  predicate, 
while  ignorant  of  the  subject  and  predicate  themselves.  In 
the  very  relation  the  nature  or  character  of  the  objects  related 
is  expressed.  And  Hamilton,  when  treating  of  the  doctrine 
of  relations  by  itself  {Metajphysics,  p.  689),  as  we  have  alreadj' 
cited  him,  says  :  "  The  relations  (the  things  relative  and  cor- 
relative) as  relative,  always  coexist  in  nature  and  coexist  in 
thought.  .  .  We  cannot  conceive,  we  cannot  know,  we  cannot 
define  the  one  relative,  without, ^ro  tanto,  conceiving,  know- 
ing, defining  also  the  other."  (5)  Applied  to  the  relation  of 
substance  and  phenomena,  of  essence  and  attributes  (as  when 
it  is  said  we  know  the  phenomena  but  not  the  substance),  the 
very  law  of  relativity  is  violated,  when  we  say  that  we  know 
the  phenomena  and  do  not  know  the  substance,  for  these  are 
mutually  related  terms.  And  since  the  phenomena  reveal  the 
Bubstance  or  essence,  we  certainly  know  as  much  abont  the 
essence  as  we  do  about  the  phenomena.  If,  in  any  case,  the 
essence  were  fully  exj)ressed  in  the  phenomena,  we  should 
know  the  full  essence.  As  applied  to  mind,  we  certainly  have 
a  direct  knowledge  of  self  in  every  act  of  consciousness.    And 


CAN  WE  KNOW  THE  A13S0LUTE  AS  WELL  AS  RELATIVE  ?         321 

as  applied  to  material  or  external  objects,  we  have  a  distinct 
conception  about  each  individual,  quite  different  from  its  phe- 
nomenal activity.  (6)  Hamilton's  definition,  oft-repeated,  of 
positive  knowledge  is  inconsistent  with  this  theory.  That  de- 
finition is,  that  positive  thinking  is  the  '■'■  affirmation  of  exist- 
eiiceP  Thinking  is  positive  when  existence  is  predicated  of 
an  object."  Now,  we  do  mentally  predicate  existence  of  sub- 
stances and  essences,  as  well  as  of  phenomena ;  we  do  this  so 
distinctly  and  necessarily,  that  we  say  the  phenomenal  is  only 
phenomenal,  and  contrast  it  with  a  permanent,  underlying 
nature  or  essence,  which  we  know  to  be  there.  So  that,  in 
fact,  our  jpositive  thinking  is  of  the  substance  and  not  of  the 
phenomena.  Else  were  this  whole  universe  to  us  an  "insub- 
stantial pageant." 

The  other  form  in  which  the  relational  theory  of  knowledge 
is  held  is,  that  we  know  only  the  relative  in  distinction  from 
the  absolute.  "We  think,"  says  Hamilton  {Metaph.,  p.  689), 
"  one  thing  only  as  we  think  two  things,  mutually,  and  at 
once  ;  which  again  is  equivalent  to  a  declaration  that  the  Ab- 
solute (the  Non-relative)  is  for  us  incogitable,  and  even  incog- 
nizable." The  general  question  here  suggested  as  to  the  know- 
ledge of  the  absolute,  and  whether  this  be  only  negative,  we 
cannot  now  enter  upon.  We  concede,  that  an  absolute  which 
is  not  related  to  us  and  to  our  powers  of  knowing,  we  cannot 
know,  any  more  than  we  can  know  a  relative,  which  is  not  re- 
lated to  us.  A  non-relative,  in  this  sense,  is  of  course  incogi- 
table. It  may  also  be  true,  that  we  cannot  know  the  absolute 
apart  from  the  relative — a  merely  abstract  absolute ;  the 
knowledge  of  the  two  may  be  indissolubly  connected.  But 
the  j-eal  question  is,  Can  w^e  know  the  absolute  as  well  as  the 
relative  ?  Can  we  afhrm,  in  positive  thought,  the  existence  of 
the  one  as  well  as  of  the  other  ?  And  as  to  this  we  might  ask, 
how  can  we  know  even  the  relative,  without  having  an  idea 
of  the  absolute  ?  Are  not  the  two  terms  correlative  ?  It  seems 
to  us,  that  so  far  is  it  from  being  true  that  we  know  only  the 
relative,  that  the  fact  of  the  case  is,  we  could  not  say  relative, 
unless  we  also  thought  absolute;  the  former  word  implies  the 
21 


322  Hamilton's  theory  of  knowledge. 

latter  just  as  niucli  as  effect  implies  cause.  And  when  we  come 
to  the  heart  of  the  matter,  it  will  be  found,  we  think,  that  the 
absolute  is  that  which  is  most  positive  in  thought,  and  that  the 
stigma  of  negation  is  rather  to  be  applied  to  the  relative  ;  for 
all  that  is  relative  implies  a  negation.  But  we  cannot  now 
pursue  this  point  any  further.'^ 

The  Ilamiltonian  theory  of  knowledge,  as  we  have  seen,  di- 
vides all  thought  into  negative  and  positive  ;  makes  all  posi- 
tive knowledge,  all  that  is  thinkable,  to  be  simply  and  solely 
of  the  relative,  the  conditional,  the  finite,  the  phenomenal.  All 
else  is  really  impossible,  or  impossible  to  thought.  Of  course, 
then,  all  that  distinguishes  God  from  the  creature,  is  at  least 
impossible  to  thought — it  surpasses  the  bounds  of  conceiva- 
bility.  All  the  23redicates  by  which  God  is  defined,  in  dis- 
tinction from  the  phenomenal,  express  inconceivabilities,  are 
mere  negative  notions,  indicate  the  absence  of  thought.  This 
is  the  case  with  the  terms  infinite,  absolute,  first  cause,  sub- 

*  Hamilton  quite  uniformly,  bating  occasional  inconsistencies,  uses  the 
words  absolute  and  infinite,  not  only  as  logical  contradictions  of  each  other 
(so  that,  e.  g.,  if  God  be  absolute  he  cannot  be  infinite),  but  so  that  both  are 
logical  contradictories  of  the  relative  and  finite  ;  that  is,  as  pure  negations, 
non-relative,  non-finite.  And  he  everywhere  implies  that  this  is  their  only 
sense.  So  that,  if  they  should  be  taken  as  positive,  the  relative  and  the 
finite  would  be  negatived,  would  be  lost  in  them.  We  may  speak  of  this 
more  fully  hereafter.  Dr.  Rickok,  in  Ma  liutional  Cosmology,  Gha^tev  1.^ 
examines  the  idea  of  the  Absolute  in  a  thorough  manner,  and  makes  the 
necessary  distinctions  between  the  absolute  in  the  understanding,  and  the 
absolute  as  given  in  the  reason.  Professor  Ulrici,  of  Halle,  editor  of  the 
Zeitschriftf.  Philosophie,  one  of  the  most  vigorous  opponents  of  the  panthe- 
istic schemes,  in  a  review  of  Hamilton  {Zeitschrift,  Bd.  27,  p.  62),  says,  that 
taking  the  absolute  as  purely  negative,  it  is  of  course  incogitable ;  but  he 
adds  that  here  is  the  very  question,  namely,  "  Whether  it  be  a  mere  nega- 
tion, or  whether  the  negation  here  is  not  a  mere  consequence  of  the  positive 
contents  of  the  idea  of  the  absolute.  We  may  maintain  the  latter.  We  hold 
that  the  absolute  is  not  conditioned  by  any  thing  else,  and  so  far  it  is  the 
unconditioned,  but  yet  only  because  it  is  itself  the  positive  condition  of 
every  thing  else."  And  he  says  that  Hamilton's  own  principle  that  "  con- 
sciousness is  only  possible  under  plurality  and  difference,"  necessitates  the 
inference  "that  the  relative  and  conditional,  as  such,  cannot  be  thought 
without  distinguishing  it  from  the  independent  and  absolute  which  condi- 
tion it  (i.  e. ,  the  relative),  and  therefore  are  themselves  unconditioned." 


HOW    HAMILTON    AVOIDED   BEING    A    SCEPTIC.  323 

stance  or  essence  ; — immensity,  eternity,  self-existence,  inde- 
pendence of  being-,  etc.,  mnst  also  fall  under  the  same  cate- 
gory of  inconceivability.  And  not  only  so,  but  many  of  the 
fundamental  beliefs  of  the  human  mind,  those  principles 
which  formed  the  very  substance  of  the  common  sense  of  the 
Scotch  school — all  of  them,  in  short,  which  do  not  express 
mere  phenomenal  relations,  come  under  the  same  category.  In 
respect  to  some  of  them  (Cause  and  Substance,  and  even  Free 
Will),  Hamilton  concedes  this  ;  and  in  respect  to  others,  the 
same  arguments  and  reasons  apply. 

It  becomes,  therefore,  a  most  important  inquiry,  in  estimat- 
ing the  philosophy  of  the  conditioned,  how  the  sceptical  re- 
sults, which  seem  to  lie  so  near  at  hand,  are  to  be  avoided.  By 
banishing  all  these  truths  from  the  sphere  of  reason  and 
thought,  the  absolute  philosophy  was  refuted,  was  annihilated. 
But  still  Hamilton  was  a  Scotchman,  and  believed  in  an  in- 
finite and  absolute  God,  in  the  immensity  of  S23ace  and  the 
eternity  of  time,  in  cause  and  substance,  in  free  will  and  mo- 
tion. To  his  intellect  they  were  merely  inconceivable,  mere 
negatives.  But  still  they  were — they  were  7'eal — they  were 
forms  and  modes  of  being.  His  philosophy,  his  logic,  said  no 
to  them  ;  but  something  else  in  him  was  always  saying  yes. 
"What  is  that  something  else  ?  He  could  not  be  a  sceptic, 
still  less  a  nihilist,  even  though  his  intellect  was  perpetually 
saying,  nihil ])uruin  or  nihil  cogitalile,  to  the  infinite  and  the 
absolute  cause. 

And  the  way  in  which  he  tried  to  get  out  of  this  difliculty, 
so  as  to  affirm  what  he  denied,  and  deny  what  he  affirmed, 
seems  to  us  to  be  one  of  the  most  remarkable  feats,  or  rather 
succession  of  feats,  to  be  found  in  the  annals  of  philosophy. 
He  was  like  a  strong  man  bound  by  his  own  logical  witlies  ; 
and  the  vigor  and  dexterity  of  his  powers  ai-e  nowhere  more 
conspicuous  than  in  the  hopeless  attempts  and  desperate  theo- 
retic shifts  to  which  he  had  recourse.  He  could  not,  and  would 
not,  accept  the  simple  afiirmation  of  reason,  of  consciousness,  as 
to  the  real  being  of  vvdiat  is  absolute,  of  cause,  substance,  and 
the  like  ;  but  believing  in  them  still,  he  must  somehow  or 


324:  Hamilton's  theory  of  knowledge. 

other  make  this  square  with  the  position  that  the}-  are  negative 
and  inconceivable.  He  did  this,  partly  in  a  psychological  way, 
and  partly  in  a  logical  way. 

Fsj'chologically,  the  way  he  met  the  difficulty  was  this.  He 
hypostatized  the  imbecility  of  the  mind  into  a  function,  and 
its  powerlessness  into  a  power,  and  made  the  very  impotence 
of  thought  to  1)0  the  source  of  all  these  fundamental  ideas.  By 
this  arduous  process,  he  seemed  to  think,  that  wliat  is  negative 
in  thought,  might  still  be  held  as  positive  in  belief  ;  that  what 
is  logically  inconceivable,  might  be  made  the  firm  foundation 
of  religion  and  ethics.  Reason,  he  says,  does  not  here  deceive, 
for  reason  has  nothing  to  do  in  the  matter ;  it  is  all  out  of 
its  province.  To  reason  it  is  indeed  all  night ;  but  the  very 
imbecility  of  the  intellect  ushers  us  into  the  presence  of  the 
most  august  truths,  the  very  negation  of  thought  gives  us  the 
most  positive  and  real  of  our  beliefs.  And  he  rather  prides 
himself  on  this  discovery;  lie  not  unfrequently  boasts  of  it  as 
something  which  has  escaped  "  all  preceding  philosophers." 
That  we  do  him  no  injustice  in  these  statements,  will  be  seen 
from  a  few  citations.  In  the  Dissertations,  p.  23,  he  says : 
"  JBy  a  wonderful  revelation,  we  are  thus,  in  the  vei*y  con- 
sciousness of  our  inability  to  conceive  aught  above  the  relative 
and  finite,  inspired  with  a  belief  in  the  existence  of  something 
unconditioned  beyond  the  sphere  of  all  comprehensive  reality. 
In  his  Metaj>hysics,  p.  526 :  "  The  imbecility  of  the  human 
mind  constitutes  a  great  negative  principle,  to  which  sundry 
of  the  most  important  phenomena  of  the  intelligence  [sic] 
may  be  preferred."  In  the  same  connection,  speaking  of 
"  necessary  forms  of  thought,"  he  says  tliere  are  some  which 
"all  philosophers"  have  regarded  as  positive,  but  "which  seem 
to  me  to  be  of  a  totally  different  kind.  In  place  of  being 
the  result  of  a  power,  the  necessity  which  belongs  to  them 
is  merely  a  consequence  of  the  impotence  of  our  faculties  ; " 
and  then  he  applies  this  to  space  and  time,  cause,  etc.  (Yet 
still  he  verbally  implies  that  they  "  are  necessary  forms  of 
thought.")  In  another  passage,  p.  681,  he  says:  "  These  and 
such-like  impotencies  of  positive  thought  have  been  straugely 


MENTAL   IMBECILITY    AS    THE    SOURCE    OF   BELIEF.  325 

overlooked."  In  the  same  work,  p.  54S,  even  "  tlte  Condi- 
tioned^'' it  is  said,  is  to  be  viewed,  "  not  as  a  power,  but  as  a 
powerlessness  of  the  mind  ; "  but  this  is  so  strange  a  position, 
that  we  are  half  inclined  to  think  there  must  be  a  misprint  in 
the  text.  Once  more,  in  the  Mctaphi/sics,  Appendix  V.,  speak- 
ing of  Kant's  conclusive  analysis  of  Judgments,  into  analytic 
and  synthetic^  Hamilton  says,  that  "  he  omitted  a  third  kind 
.  .  .  which  do  not  seem  to  spring  from  a  positive  power  of  the 
mind,  but  only  from  the  inability  of  the  mind  to  conceive  the 
contrary."  And  these  "negative,  synthetic  judgments,"  he 
adds,  are  equivalent  to  the  Common  Sense  of  Roid.  The 
truths,  then,  which  Eeid  derived  from  Common  Sense,  Hamil- 
ton derives  from  this  impotency  of  the  mind  to  conceive  either 
them,  or  the  contrary  of  them.  Would  Eeid  have  regarded 
this  as  a  valid  support  of  his  theory  ? 

But  besides  this  imbecility,  or  impotence  of  the  mind,  as 
the  source  of  its  most  vital  beliefs,  Hamilton  also  has  a  logical 
method  of  arriving  at  the  same  result.  Logic,  in  fact,  shows 
us  how  the  mental  imbecility  can  perform  the  operation.  And 
here  is  where  the  theory  becomes  stranger  than  fiction  ;  but  it 
is  so  often  reiterated,  that  we  are  compelled  to  believe  that  its 
author  held  it  to  be  perfectly  valid.  The  phenomenon  to  be 
accounted  for,  let  us  recollect,  is  this :  All  positive  thought 
leaves  the  Infinite  and  Absolute  Cause,  Substance,  etc.,  a 
blank,  a  negation  ;  but  yet  we  believe  in  them.  The  absolute 
pliilosophy  is  annulled  by  the  negation  ;  how  is  the  Scotch  faith 
to  be  saved  %  To  leave  it  all  in  the  position  of  "  a  negation  of 
all  thought"  would  look  too  much  like  nihilism  ;  but  yet,  in 
"  thought "  there  is  no  means  of  rescue.  Is  there  not  some 
method  left  %  Yes,  there  is  one  such.  Positive  thinking  is 
realized  under  two  conditions,  viz.,  the  logical  laws  {non-con- 
tradiction) and  relativity.  If  the  logical  laws  be  violated,  we 
have  a  mere  impossibility.  But  if  the  law  of  relativity  be 
violated,  we  have,  not  an  absolute  impossibility,  but  only  an 
incogitability  {a  nihil  cogitahile).  But  the  measure  of  thought 
is  not  the  measure  of  being  (of  course  not,  but  is  it  not  the 
measure  of  any  possible  knowledge  of  being  to  us?     But  \\q 


326  Hamilton's  theory  of  knowledge. 

let  that  pass).  Now — if  it  can  be  demonstrated,  even  though 
we  cannot  conceive  it,  that  this  "incoo-nizable  and  incoo-ita- 
ble  "  Infinite  and  x^bsolute  must  still  he — then,  we  may  save  the 
belief,  though  we  deny  that  positive  thinking  has  anything  to 
do  with  it.  And  it  is  the  attempt  at  such  a  logical  demonstra- 
tion of  the  real  being  of  what  we  cannot  conceive  to  be,  which 
makes  the  specialty  of  Hamilton's  system.  Most  persons  would 
have  thought  it  much  simpler  just  to  sa}^,  the  mind  compels  us 
to  such  belief.  That,  however,  in  Hamilton's  system  would 
leave  the  belief  in  just  a  contradictory  relation  to  the  thought. 
But  if  the  logical  law  of  non-contradiction  itself  compels  to 
the  belief,  then  the  triumph  of  logic  is  complete ;  and  the 
Scotch  philosophy  is  saved,  while  the  German  absolutists  are 
annihilated.  And  Hamilton  prepares  for  this  consummation 
in  various  ways;  he  makes,  e.g.,  different  sorts  of  necessary 
ideas — one  sort  being  derived  from  the  mind's  impotency  ;  he 
proposes  a  new  division  (as  we  have  seen  above)  of  Kant's 
synthetic  judgments — a  "  synthetic  negative,"  etc.  But  the 
consummation  itself  we  must  give  in  his  own  words:  it  is 
announced  not  infrequently  as  "a  grand  law  of  thought," 
which  is  to  solve  the  difficulties  inhering  in  the  philosophy  of 
nescience. 

The  first  hint  of  it  is  in  the  article  on  Cousin  {Discussions^ 
p.  22) :  "The  conditioned  is  the  mean  between  two  extremes 
— two  inconditionates  exclusive  of  each  other,  neither  of  which 
can  he  conceived  as  possible,  but  of  which,  on  the  principle  of 
Contradiction  and  Excluded  Middle,*  one  must  he  admitted  as 
necessary P  The  mind,  it  is  added,  "  is  not  represented  as  con- 
ceiving two  propositions  subversive  of  each  other,  as  equally 

*  The  law  of  Contradiction  is  this  :  we  cannot  affirm  and  deny  the  same 
predicate  of  the  same  subject  at  the  same  time.  The  principle  of  Excluded 
Middle  (i.  e.,  the  middle  between  two  contradictories)  is  this,  that  of  Con- 
tradictory predicates  we  can  only  affirm  one  of  an  object ;  if  one  be  affirmed, 
the  other  is  denied.  It  is  the  principle  of  disjunctive  judgments.  The  first 
law  (Non-Contradiction)  says,  Alpha  est,  AljyJia  von  est — both  propositions 
cannot  be  true.  The  law  of  Excluded  Middle  says,  Aut  est  Alpha  aut  non, 
est — one  of  these  assertions  is  true,  the  other  not.  Hamilton's  Logic,  G2, 
Metaphysics,  526. 


A    GRAND   LAW    OF   THOUGHT.  327 

possible  ;  but  only,  as  unable  to  understand  as  possible  either 
of  two  extremes;  one  of  which,  however,  on  the  ground  of 
their  mutual  repugnance,  it  is  compelled  to  recognize  as  true." 
In  the  Appendix,  p.  569,  speaking  of  Relativity,  as  a  condi- 
tion of  positive  thought,  he  says :  "  "We  should  not. think  it  as  a 
law  of  things,  but  merely  as  a  law  of  thought ;  for  we  find  that 
there  are  contradictor}' opposites,  owe  ofiohich,  by  the  rule  of 
Excluded  Middle,  Qnust  he  true,  but  neither  of  which  can  by 
us  be  positively  thought  as  possible."  (Under  this  come,  not 
only  the  Infinite,  but  a\^o  substance,  ^^  v,'\\\q\\  cannot  be  con- 
ceived by  us,  except  negatively"  (p.  570);  time,  as  infinite  or 
eternal,  and  even  "  time  present  is  conceivable  only  as  a  nega- 
tion ; "  so,  too,  motion  /  space,  as  either  infinitely  unbounded,  or 
absolutely  bounded  ;  degree,  as  either  absolute  or  relative  ;  and 
even  cause  is  resolved  into  this  "  impotence  to  conceive  either 
of  two  contradictories.")  These  same  positions  are  frequently 
reiterated.  In  the  Metaphysics,  p.  527  :  "  Now,  then,  I  lay 
it  down  as  a  law  which,  though  not  generalized  by  pliiloso- 
phers,  can  be  easily  proved  to  be  true  by  its  application  to 
phenomena :  That  all  that  is  conceivable  in  thought,  lies 
between  two  extremes,  which,  as  contradictory  of  each  other, 
cannot  both  be  true,  but  of  whicli,  as  mutual  contradictories, 
one  must.  For  example,  we  conceive  space — we  cannot  but 
conceive  space.  .  .  But  space  must  be  either  bounded  or  not 
bounded.  These  are  contradictory  alternatives ;  on  the  principle 
of  Contradiction  they  cannot  both  be  true,  and  on  the  principle 
of  Excluded  Middle,  one  must  he  trueP  This  is  then  applied  to 
both  the  maximum  and  minimum  of  space;  and  to  time,  un- 
der the  same  categories.  This,  he  further  says  (p.  548),  is  the 
"  Law  of  the  Conditioned  " — "  that  the  conceivable  has  always 
two  opposite  extremes,  and  that  the  extremes  are  equally  incon- 
ceivable ;  "  a  law  ''  which,  however  palpable  when  stated,  has 
never  been  generalized  so  far  as  I  know,  by  any  philoso- 
pher" (p.  552).  The  same  law  is  applied  to  Causality,  at 
length ;  but  of  this  we  cannot  now  speak  further.  One 
other  extract  will  complete  our  materials  for  forming  a  judg- 
ment of  this  theory.     Speaking  of  the  law  of  Contradiction 


328  Hamilton's  theoky  of  knowledge. 

(Appendix  to  Metaphysics^  p.  6S0),  he  says,  if  left  to  it  alone, 
"  we  slionld  be  unable  competently  to  attempt  any  argument  on 
some  of  the  most  interesting  and  important  questions.  For 
there  are  many  problems  in  tlie  philosophy  of  the  mind,  where 
the  solution  necessarily  lies  between  what  are,  to  us,  the  one 
or  the  other  of  two  counter,  and  therefore,  incompatible 
alternatives,  neither  of  which  we  are  able  to  conceive  as 
possible,  but  of  which,  by  the  very  condition  of  thought, 
we  are  compelled  to  acknowledge  that  the  one  or  the  other 
cannot  but  be  ;  and  it  is  as  supplying  this  deficiency,  that 
what  has  been  called  the  ai-gument  from  Common  Sense  be- 
comes principally  useful."'  And  then  he  adds,  that  this  prin- 
ciple of  Contradiction  has  two  forms  ;  one,  the  Logical^  is  well 
known  ;  the  other — "  what  naay  be  called  the  Psychological 
application — while  it  necessarily  declares  that,  of  Contradic- 
tories, both  cannot,  but  one  must,  be,  still  bilaterally  admits 
that  we  may  be  unable  positively  to  think  the  possibility  of 
either  alternative.  This,  the  ps^'chological  phasis  of  the  law, 
is  comparatively  unknown,  and  has  been  generally  neglected." 
And  then  follow  the  usual  illustrations  about  Existence, 
Space,  and  Time. 

To  this  scheme  it  were  needless  to  deny  the  merit  of  great 
ingenuity,  and  even  subtlety  of  thought.  It  is,  at  least,  carry- 
ing the  logical  laws  to  their  extreme  limits  of  application  ;  even 
if  it  does  not  surpass  these  limits.  It  seems  at  first  sight  to  save, 
what  Hamilton's  general  theory  of  knowledge  left  hopeless. 
Though,  at  the  same  time,  the  attempt,  by  logical  thinking 
upon  what  cannot  be  thouglit,  to  demonstrate,  that  we  must 
believe  what  we  cannot  conceive,  would  have  deterred  au}^ 
less  skilful  thinker.  And  has  he  not  after  all  been  caught  in 
the  meshes  of  his  own  logic  ? 

In  considering  this  theory,  we  leave  out  of  account  several 
assumptions  involved  in  it,  which  are  liable  to  objection — or 
at  least  open  to  debate.  One  of  these  is,  the  general  state- 
ment as  to  what  constitutes  positive  thought — that  it  is  found 
oidy  in  the  sphere  of  the  relative  and  finite.  If  positive 
thought  consists,  as  Hamilton  says,  ultimately  in  the  afhrma- 


WHAT    IS    NEGATIVE    TIimKIXG  ?  329 

tion  of  existence — wliv  may  it  not  be  applicable  as  well  to 
absolute  as  to  relative  being?  Another  query  would  be  as 
to  the  terms  ''thought"  and  "knowledge" — whether  they 
can  be  lawfully  restricted  in  the  same  way.  Still  another 
point  would  be  as  to  the  nature  even  of  "  negative  thinking" 
— whether  the  '*'  negation  of  thought,"  in  respect  to  any  ob- 
ject, does  not  involve  a  denial  of  the  real  being  of  that  object, 
so  far  as  it  is  possible  for  us  to  know  anything  about  it.*  Nor 
will  we  stop  to  comment  on  the  statement  so  often  made,  that 
"  all  which  is  conceivable  in  thought,  lies  between  two  con- 
tradictory extremes,  which  aie  both  equally  inconceivable ;  " 
though  it  is  difficult  to  see  what  this  statement  about  "  what  is 
conceivable  "  (even  if  true)  has  to  do  with  the  case.  It  does 
not  in  the  least  affect  the  logical  inference  about  the  two  con- 
tradictories ;  the  conceivable  is  certainly  not,  in  Hamilton's 
view,  the  Excluded  Middle  betv\'een  these  contradictories  ;  for 
all  that  the  law  of  Excluded  Middle  says,  is,  that  of  two  con- 
tradictory predicates,  we  can  only  affirm  one,  and  must  deny 
the  other. 

But  to  come  to  the  demonstration  itself,  viz.,  that  the  prin- 
ciple of  Contradiction  and  Excluded  Middle  proves  that  there 
are  cases  of  contradictory  opposites,  one  of  which  must  be 
true,  but  both  of  which  are  equally  inconceivable,  as  e.  g., 
that  space  is  either  bounded  or  unbounded — both  inconceiva- 

*  In  a  note  to  the  second  Edinburgh  edition  of  his  Discussions  (not  fouud 
in  the  American  edition,  but  cited  by  Calderwood,  p.  63),  Hamilton  says : 
' '  It  might  be  supposed  that  Negative  thinking,  being  a  negation  of  thought, 
is  in  propriety  a  negation  therefore  of  all  mental  activity.  But  this  would  be 
erroneous.  .  .  Even  negative  thought  is  realized  oxxlj  under  the  condition 
of  Relati\aty  and  Positive  thinking.  For  example,  we  try  to  think  —to  predi- 
cate existence  in  some  way,  but  find  ourselves  unable.  We  then  predicate 
incogitability^  and  if  we  do  not  always  predicate,  as  an  equivalent  (objective) 
non-exMence^  we  shall  never  err."  Calderwood,  in  the  connection,  shows 
the  inconsistency  between  this  statement,  and  Hamilton's  previous  strong 
assertion— that  in  all  cases  of  negative  thinking  "  the  remit  is  7iothing."  If 
positive  thinking  be  the  affirmation  of  existence— negative  thinking  must 
mean  "  that  existence  is  not  attributed  to  an  object."  And  how  negative 
thinking  can  be  no  act  of  thinking,  and  yet  a  "  mental  activity,"  it  is  cer- 
tainly difficult  to  divine. 


330  Hamilton's  theory  of  knowledge. 

ble,  one  necessary:  or,  as  Hamilton  abusively  contrasts  the 
terms,  space  is  either  absolute  (completed)  or  infinite  (never 
can  be  completed) ;  it  cannot  be  both  (by  the  law  of  contra- 
diction), it  must  be  one  (by  the  law  of  excluded  middle);  yet 
both  are  equally  incogitable.  To  this  process,  and  its  conclu- 
sion, we  ui'ge  tlie  following  objections: 

(1.)  The  demonstration  is  a  logical  one,  and  of  course  must 
involve  a  positive  judgment,  and  positive  thought  in  the  con- 
clusion. The  principle  of  Contradiction  cannot  be  applied 
except  as  there  is  both  an  affirmation  and  a  negation.  In  draw- 
ing the  conclusion,  we  affirm  in  thought  one  of  the  contradic- 
tory predicates.  Space  is  either  unbounded  or  bounded.  If 
we  decide  for  the  unbounded,  it  is  a  positive  affirmation  that 
the  unbounded  is.  And  Hamilton  liimself  can  hardly  state 
his  case  without  implying  the  positive  thinJcing  which  his 
theory  denies.  lie  calls  it  a  "judgment,"  negative  indeed, 
but  still  a  "synthetic  negative  judgment."  He  calls  it  "a 
laiD  of  thought "  "  to  think  the  unknown  "  {Metaph.,  p.  97), 
and  then  says  (p.  99) :  "It  is  no  object  of  knowledge."  He 
makes  it  to  be  a  "  necessity  "  of  thought,  although  it  be  also 
negative.  Thus  admitting  the  process  to  be  correct,  it  refutes 
his  own  position,  that  the  thought  in  the  case  is  merely  nega- 
tive. 

(2.)  But  according  to  the  terms  of  the  proposed  demonstra- 
tion, it  is  utterly  impossible  that  there  should  be  such  a  judg- 
ment, as  he  declares  to  be  logically  necessary.  The  state  of 
the  case  is  this:  we  have  two  absolutely, contradictory,  and 
entirely  inconceivable,  predicates  (the  absolute  and  infinite,  in 
his  sense)  to  be  applied  to  a  given  object.  ]^ow,  if  both  are 
inconceivable,  we  cannot  make  any  distinction  between  them. 
Both  are  to  thought  mere  negations — that  is,  one  and  the  same 
thing,  or  rather — nothing.  Consequently  they  cannot  be  com- 
pared— still  less  put  as  contradictories.  Thought  sees  a  black 
blank  in  both,  and  consequently  cannot  decide  between  them. 
There  is  no  case  for  adjudication.  But  if  there  be  a  case, 
then  the  inconceivabilities  must  be  conceived,  positively 
thought,  as  different,  and  distinguishable  from  each  other.     If 


WHAT   LOGIC    CAN    AND    CANNOT    DO.  331 

the  J  are,  or  can  be,  so  thought,  then,  one  at  least  of  the  con- 
tradictories is  not  a  mere  negative.  So  that  either  the  process 
cannot  he  conducted,  or  the  theor}'  of  negative  thought  is 
baseless. 

(3.)  But  even  supposing  that  their  inconceivabilitv  did  not 
prevent  a  decision — and  that,  on  the  principle  of  Excluded 
Middle,  one  of  the  contradictories  must  be  true — logic  could 
never  tell  us  which  of  them  to  take.  All  that  it  can  do  is  to  put 
the  dilemma  before  us,  and  saj,  between  two  negations  of 
thought,  two  inconceivabilities,  make  your  election.  Space  is 
limited  or  unlimited  ;  time  has  or  has  not  a  beginning  and  an 
ending ; — neither  is  conceivable,  both  cannot  be  true,  one  must 
be  true.  But  which  is  true?  Suppose  I  say  "  limited,"  and 
my  neighbor  says  "  unlimited."  What  here  decides?  Logic 
is  speechless.     It  deserts  us  at  the  crisis. 

But  we  make  the  decision,  it  may  be  said,  by  belief,  by 
common  sense  ;  and  this  is  what  the  doctrine  of  common 
sense  means.  But  if  this  be  so,  tljen  manifestly,  the  logical 
laws  are  not  final,  the  law  of  excluded  middle  does  not  say 
the  last  word ;  there  is  a  power  above  it,  which  is  to  declare, 
and  which  must  declare,  which  of  the  two  conti-adictorj^  alter- 
natives is  true,  and  which  is  false.  Logic  merely  brings  the 
case  before  this  higher  tribunal.  You  may  call  that  ulti- 
mate arbiter,  Common  Sense,  or  Intuition,  or  Reason  ;  but  it 
is  there,  and  says  the  last  word,  and  forms  the  final  judg- 
ment. And  that  judgment  is  the  positive  afiirmation,  that 
real  objective  truth  belongs  to  one,  and  only  one,  of  the 
alternatives.  And  as  we  have  got  to  come  to  this  at  last, 
why  not  start  with  it  ?  This  logical  bifurcation  simply  serves 
to  set  the  decisions  of  reason  and  common  sense  in  an  in- 
dubitable light.  As  far  as  affirming  the  real  being,  the 
reality,  of  either  of  the  opposite  poles  is  concerned,  it  is 
simply  a  grand  impertinence. 

(4.)  But  that  we  must  show  more  fully.  Hamilton's  process 
here  is  a  violation  of  the  very  nature  of  formal  Logic,  accord- 
ino-  to  his  own  definitions  and  statements.  We  do  not  now 
Rpeak  of  logic  in  the  higher  sense  in  which  some  use  it,  as  in- 


332  Hamilton's  theory  of  knowledge. 

eluding  the  laws  of  being  as  well  as  of  thonglit,  but  of  logic 
as  Hamilton  always  uses  it,  as  the  science  of  the  laws  of  think- 
ing. Used  in  this  sense,  it  is  impossible  that  it  should  give  us 
objective  reality  ;  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  that.  As  Hamil- 
ton says,  the  argument  from  contradiction  is  '•  negative,  not 
positive ;  it  may  refute,  but  it  is  incompetent  to  establish.  It 
may  show  what  is  not,  hut  never  of  itself  what  is.  It  is  exclu- 
sively Logical  or  Formal,  not  Metaphysical  or  real ;  it  proceeds 
on  a  necessity  of  thought,  hut  never  issues  in  an  Ontology  or 
knowledge  of  Existence.''''  Here  the  metes  and  bounds  of  logic 
are  fairly  and  fully  stated.  But  in  applying  the  laws  of  non- 
contradiction and  excluded  middle  to  the  instances  in  hand — 
instead  of  limiting  the  application  to  the  point,  that  thought 
must  not  violate,  and  must  be  conformed  to,  these  laws,  he 
makes  these  laws  to  determine  ontological  truth.  He  says, 
e.  g.,  that  the  law  of  excluded  middle  declares,  that  one  of  the 
contradictory  alternatives  must  be  true  in  fact.  But  how  does 
the  proposition,  that  space  must  be  either  absolute  or  infinite, 
prove,  that  either  absolute  or  infinite  space  is,  and  still  more, 
which  of  them  it  is?  any  more  than  the  proposition,  that 
the  soul  must  be  either  mortal  or  immortal,  proves  the  being 
of  the  soul,  or  its  mortality  or  immortality?*  H  the  law 
of  contradiction  be  aj^plied,  it  gives,  at  the  utmost,  the  not- 
impossible,  but  not  the  real. 

(5.)  Still  further,  even  if  none  of  these  objections  hold,  yet 
the  logical  bifurcation,  in  the  alleged  instances,  in  the  sense  in 
which  Hamilton  uses  words,  is  not  exhaustive — his  dilemmas 
do  not  include  the  whole — his  predicates  do  not  embrace  all 
the  possibilities.  "\Ye  here  refer  particularly  to  his  use  of  the 
terms  absolute  and  infinite,  as  contradictory,  and  as  exhaustive. 
Using,  as  he  does,  ahsolute,  in  the  sense  of  a  completed  whole, 
and  infinite,  as  meaning  a  whole  that  cannot  be  completed,  he 

*  Hamilton,  in  stating  tlie  law  of  Excluded  Middle  {Logic,  p.  59)  seems  to 
prepare  the  way  for  the  use  he  makes  of  it  in  the  Metaphysics,  saying,  that 
"  it  announces  that  condition  of  thought  which  compels  us,  of  two  repug- 
nant notions,  which  cannot  both  coexist^  to  think  either  the  one  or  the  other 
as  existing.'''' 


TENDENCY    OF    HAMILTON'S    ARGUMENTATION.  333 

not  only  sets  these  two  words  in  entire  opposition  (In  this  usage 
being  himself  in  opposition  to  almost  all  philosophers),  but  he 
does  not  recognize  the  jpositive  infinite,  and  the  tmlimited 
absolute y  these  do  not  come  within  his  dilemmas.  Space,  e.g., 
he  saj'S,  is  either  bounded,  or  unbounded  (the  latter  in  the 
negative  sense,  that  we  cannot  find  its  bounds,  or  cannot  con- 
ceive it  as  made  up  of  limited  parts).  But  space,  as  posi- 
tive immensity,  he  does  not  consider.  It  is  not  true,  that 
space  is  only  either  absolute  or  infinite  (in  his  sense),  for 
there  is  a  third  possibility  (and  this  is  the  real  idea)  viz., 
the  space  is  above  and  beyond  all  limits.  And  this  posi- 
tive idea  of  infinite  space  is,  in  fact,  what  enables  us  to 
decide  l^etween  the  contradictory  alternatives  which  he  pre- 
sents. So,  too,  of  Time,  of  Cause,  of  Substance,  etc.  And, 
besides,  this  whole  mode  of  ratiocination,  which  puts  the 
infinite  and  the  finite,  the  absolute  and  the  relative,  in  the 
position  of  logical  contradictories,  is  abusive,  and  may  easily 
lead  to  dangerous  consequences — compelling  us  to  swallow 
up  the  finite  in  the  infinite,  or  the  infinite  in  the  finite. 
Instead  of  opening  the  way  to  faith,  it  may  open  the  door  to 
scepticism. 

And,  now,  as  to  the  support  which  this  argumentation  gives 
to  the  philosophy  of  Common  Sense,  to  Faith,  to  Belief,  in 
short,  to  Bcligion — what  must  we  say  ?  As  to  its  relation  to 
Common  Sense,  the  amount  of  the  matter  is  this  :  if  Common 
Sense  be  the  real,  final  arbiter,  this  logical  process  is  superflu- 
ous ;  but  if  this  logical  process  be  final.  Common  Sense  is 
dethroned  of  all  its  Scotch  dignities  and  exaltation.  For,  if 
this  Common  Sense  was  anything,  it  was  positive  thought, 
atfirmino-  ultimate  and  absolute  truth.  It  was  not  an 
impotency,  but  the  highest  positive  power,  of  the  human 
mind.  But  in  the  Hamiltonian  system,  it  has  got  to  decide 
between  alternatives,  both  of  which  are  "  a  negation  of  all 
thought."  It  puts  us  in  the  position,  as  he  himself  ex- 
presses it — that  "our  capacity  of  thought  is  peremptorily 
proved  incompetent  to  what  we  necessarily  tliink  about ; " 
and,  can   language    express    a   more    violent    contradiction  ? 


334  Hamilton's  theory  of  knowledge. 

This  whole  scheme  uiidermiiies  Conimon  Sense,  or  Common 
Sense  undermines  the  scheme.  The  case  is  the  same  with 
Belief.*  This  system  annuls  Belief,  or  Belief  annuls  the  sys- 
tem. For  the  system  calls  upon  belief  to  decide  affirmatively 
in  favor  of  an  absolute  negative ;  it  leaves  to  belief  no  positive 
object  of  thought.  Still  further,  how  can  the  belief  be  con- 
strued, excepting  as  affirming  the  existence  of  that  which  is 
believed  ;  if  this  existence  be  affirmed,  it  is  positive  thought, 
according  to  Hamilton's  own  definition  of  positive  thought ;  if 
the  existence  is  not  affii-med,  the  belief  is  nugatory.  But  if  the 
belief  in  an  absolute  being  affirms  it  real  existence,  if  positive 
thought  be  indisj^ensably  involved,  then,  too,  all  positive  think- 
ing is  not  of  the  relative  and  the  finite.  In  siiort,  if  in  belief 
there  is  tliought,  the  system  is  refuted  ;  if  in  belief  there  is  no 
thought,  belief  is  annihilated.  And  what  a  wonderful  work 
belief  is  called  upon  to  perform  !  It  is  called  upon  to  decide 
between  two  equally  inconceivable  and  absolutely  contradictory 
positions ;  to  decide,  that  one  of  these  inconceivabilities  has  a 
real  existence,  and  the  other  not ;  and  to  do  this  without  any 
thought  whatever.  Its  decision  must  not,  cannot  be,  a  thougld; 
for  if  it  is,  the  theory  is  exploded.  iVnd  the  final  dilemma  is 
this :  if  the  oljject  of  faith  be  purely  negative  and  incogitable, 
it  is  also  incredible ;  if  it  is  credible,  it  cannot  be  merely  nega- 
tive and  incogitable.  The  "intellectual  intuition  "  of  Schell- 
ing  is  reason  itself,  when  compared  with  a  blind  faith  in 
negations. 

The  bearings  and  relations  of  this  system  become  of  still 
higher  importance,  when  viewed  in  respect  to  Beligion.    For, 


*  Very  few  statements  as  to  the  nature  of  Belief  occur  in  Hamilton's 
works.  In  his  Logic,  p.  377,  he  says  :  "  Knowledge  is  a  certainty  founded 
upon  insight.  Belief  is  a  certainty  founded  upon  feeling."  P.  385  :  "  We 
cannot  believe  without  some  consciousness  or  knowledge  of  the  V>elief,  and, 
consequently,  without  some  consciousness  or  knowledge  of  the  object  of 
belief."  But  he  dismisses  the  question  of  the  relation  of  knowledge  and 
belief,  s'mply  saying,  that  it  is  "  one  of  the  most  difficult  problems  of  meta- 
physics." And  in  his  Metaphysics^  the  amount  of  what  he  says  is,  "that 
belief  precedes  knowledge." 


INMOST    SEKSE    OF    TJIE    HAMILTONIAN    SYSTEM.  335 

according  tt)  it,  all  the  predicates  by  ^vllicll  we  define  God  in 
contrast  with  the  world,  express  what  is  utterly  inconceivable, 
mere  negative  thought,  and  even  "  the  negation  of  the  very 
conditions  under  which  thought  is  possible."  There  is  a  wide 
chasm  between  belief  and  reason — and  no  bridge  spans  the 
gulf.  Faith  is  on  (me  side — the  intellect  is  on  the  other  ;  and 
what  the  intellect  declares  to  be  negative,  faith  declares  to  be 
positive.  On  these  principles,  the  conflict  between  faith  and 
reason  is  one  that  can  never  be  adjusted.  And  this  negation 
of  thought  in  respect  to  deity,  it  should  be  remembered,  is  not 
merely  in  respect  to  him  as  infinite  or  absolute,  but  it  extends 
equally  to  him  as  cause,  as  substance,  as  creator ;  it  does  not 
concern  merely  his  relations  to  space  and  time,  but  also  his 
relations  to  the  world  as  the  product  of  his  jDOwer.  For  this 
negative  thought,  when  logically  carried  out,  as  Hamilton 
himself  now  and  then  seems  to  intimate,  covers  the  case  of  all 
our  primary  beliefs,  excepting  the  laws  of  logic,  the  axioms 
of  mathematics,  and  time,  space,  and  existence  as  finite. 
These  latter  beliefs  are  positive  ;  but  all  other  heliefs  are  neg- 
ative to  tJiougJit.  This  is  the  inmost  sense  of  the  Ilamiltonian 
system.  It  makes  metaphysics  impossible,  except  as  a  science 
of  the  phenomenal ;  ethics  impossible,  except  as  a  classifi- 
cation of  duties  ;  cosmology  impossible,  except  as  it  is  mere- 
ly inductive ;  and  theology  impossible,  as  the  science  of  the 
sciences. 

In  our  examination  of  Hamilton's  system  in  this  article,  we 
have  confined  ourselves  to  his  general  theory  of  knowledge, 
without  investigating  its  application  to  particular  ideas  and 
truths.  If  his  general  theory  be  shown  to  be  unsatisfactory, 
it  will  be  more  easy  to  judge  about  the  particular  instances. 
When  opposed,  it  has  generally  been  by  refuting  him  in  re- 
spect to  particular  ideas  ;  and  many  who  have  done  this  have 
implied  or  conceded  the  truth  of  his  general  principles  about 
knowledge.  But  the  core  of  Hamilton's  system  is  in  his 
theory  of  knowledge.  This  is  neither  Scotch  nor  German  ;  it 
is  a  cross  between.  Its  German  elements  refute  its  Scotch 
common  sense  :  its  Scotch  sense  is  irreconcilable  with  its  ex- 


336  Hamilton's  theory  of  knowledge. 

treme  Kantianism.  It  is  the  ingenious  attempt  of  a  stronc: 
intellect  to  extricate  itself  from  metaphysical  difficulties  by 
logical  laws.  But  neither  metaphysics  nor  theology  can  allow, 
that  logic  is  either  the  source  or  the  measure  of  the  fundamen- 
tal truths  of  human  reason. 


DRAPER'S 

INTELLECTUAL  DEVELOPMENT  OF  EUROPE.^ 


The  subject  of  this  work  is  of  the  highest  importance,  and 
beset  with  great  difficulties.  Any  scholar  who  should  give  a 
complete  account  of  the  intellectual  development  of  Europe 
would  win  a  noble  guerdon  in  the  fame  of  the  achievement. 
It  demands  a  union  of  the  highest  intellectual  powers,  with 
a  scholarsliip  adequate  to  sweep  the  whole  realm  of  literature 
and  thought.  Such  a  development  must  comprise  at  least 
an  outline  or  summary  of  what  has  been  accomplished  by  the 
iiuman  race  in  the  way  of  grasping  and  solving  the  great 
problems  of  human  destin}^  Whatever  science,  art,  religion, 
morals,  and  politics  have  done  or  are  doing  for  the  race,  is  to 
be  set  forth  in  order.  Few  scholars  have  the  encyclopedic 
attainments,  combined  with  powers  of  analysis  and  generaliza- 
tion, adequate  to  master  and  marshal  this  vast  accumulation 
of  materials.  Those  familiar  with  the  progress  of  literature 
are  aware  that  the  production  of  such  a  work  has  been  the 
aim  of  the  most  comprehensive  learning,  and  of  the  loftiest 
philosophical  speculations,  in  Germany,  France,  and  England. 
Each  recent  system  of  philosophy  has  had  this  in  view.  The 
various,  almost  innumerable,  productions  on  the  history  of 
civilization,  of  literature,  of  art  and  the  arts,  of  the  different 
branches  of  science,  of  philosophy  in  all  its  dejiartments,  and 

*  From  tlie  American  Presbyterian  and  Theological  ReneiD  for  October, 
1863.     A  History  of  the  Intellectual  Development  of  Europe. 
By  John  William  Draper,  BLD.,  LL.D.     New  York:  Harper  and  Broth- 
ers. 1803.  Svo,  pp.  xii. ,  631. 
22 


338       draper's    intellectual   development   of    EUROPE. 

of  morals  and  theology,  are  contributions  to  this  result.  And 
masters  in  the  sphere  of  thought  have  endeavored  to  combine 
all  these  in  one  general  view,  which  should  exhibit  the  ra- 
tionale and  the  end  of  human  progress.  The  elaborate  re- 
searches and  speculations  of  Schelling  and  Hegel,  of  Comte 
and  Buckle,  and  of  many  others,  bear  upon  this  question, 
attempt  to  solve  this  problem. 

One  of  the  most  striking  facts  now,  about  this  new  work 
of  Dr.  Draper,  is,  that  he  seems  to  ignore,  or  to  be  ignorant 
of,  all  that  lias  been  done  by  previous  explorers.  Ever  since 
the  time  of  Vico,  and  in  every  cultivated  nation,  there  have 
been  men  of  the  ripest  qualifications  devoted  to  this  task,  and 
yet  they  are  here  hardly  recognized  even  by  name  :  Condorcet, 
Herder,  Schlegel,  and  Guizot,  besides  Schelling  and  Ilegel, 
Comte  and  Buckle,  are  not  mentioned  in  this  treatise.  Even 
Mr,  Dove's  work  on  the  TJteory  of  Human  Progression  con- 
tains a  more  careful  scheme,  better  worked  out,  than  the  one 
here  presented. 

It  may  be  said,  that  the  scheme  is  new,  that  the  theory  is 
original,  and  therefore  could  not  receive  much  aid  or  eluci- 
dation from  the  labors  of  others.  But  so  far  as  we  can  get  at 
the  theory  of  Dr.  Draper  it  seems  to  us,  in  its  main  drift,  quite 
identical  with  that  which  Comte,  Buckle  and  Mill  have  l)een 
elaborating  for  the  last  quarter  or  third  of  a  century ;  though 
it  is  not  so  carefully  or  logically  stated  b}'  him  as  by  either  of 
these  three  masters  of  positive  science.  Differing  from  them 
in  some  points,  his  tendency  is  in  the  same, direction.  Human 
progress  in  general  is  confounded  with  progress  in  the  so- 
called  positive  sciences.  The  substance  of  the  age  of  reason, 
according  to  him,  is  an  increased  knowledge  of  the  laws  and 
forces  of  nature,  brought  into  the  service  of  man.  In  morals, 
theology,  and  metaphysics,  he  sees  no  progress,  and  finds  no 
hope  for  the  future.  In  fact,  all  the  ground  of  intellectual 
progress  which  seems  to  him  to  remain  is  in  the  advance 
of  physiology.  And  this  he  indicates  as  the  main  discovery 
and  fruit  of  his  researches.  This  position  is  so  sti'ango,  tli;' 
it  deserves  a  somewhat  fuller  examination.     Ileie,  to< 


DK.  DRAPER    ANNOUNCES    HIS    THEME.  339 

leaves  the  broad  ground  of  other  positivists,  and  defines  and 
circumscinbes  his  main  object.  Corate  and  Buckle  make  in- 
duction from  facts  subject  to  the  senses  to  be  the  main  instru- 
ment of  progress,  but  they  do  not  condition  the  advance  of 
intellect  upon  any  one  science  ;  Dr.  Draper  finds  in  physiol- 
ogy the  source,  test,  and  law  of  the  intellectual  development 
of  Eurojie. 

In  the  Preface  he  announces  his  theme :  it  is  "  a  history  of 
the  progress  of  ideas  and  opinion  from  a  point  of  view  here- 
tofore almost  entirely  neglected."  "  Social  advancement  is 
as  completely  nnder  the  control  of  natural  law  as  is  bodily 
growth.  The  life  of  an  individual  is  a  miniature  of  the  life 
of  a  nation.  These  propositions  it  is  the  special  object  of  this 
book  to  demonstrate.''  "  No  one,  I  believe,  has  hitherto  nn- 
dertaken  the  labor  of  arranging  the  evidence  offered  by  the 
intellectual  history  of  Eui-ope  in  accordance  wUhj>hysiological 
princijples,  so  as  to  illustrate  the  orderly  j)rogress  of  civiliza- 
tion, or  collected  the  facts  furnished  by  other  branches  of 
science  with  a  view  of  enabling  us  to  recognize  clearly  the 
conditions  under  which  that  progress  takes  place.  This  philo- 
sophical deficiency  I  have  endeavored  in  the  following  pages 
to  supply."  "  Seen  thus  through  the  medium  of  ])hysiology^ 
history  presents  a  new  aspect  to  us.  We  gain  a  more  just  and 
thorough  appreciation  of  the  thoughts  and  motives  of  men 
in  successive  ages  of  the  world."  The  same  general  proposi- 
tions are  reiterated  at  convenient  stae^es  throuirhout  the  vol- 
nme,  which  is  in  fact  only  an  expansion  of  the  last  chapter  of 
the  author's  Physiology.  How  far  are  these  views  original  ? 
How  far  are  they  true  ? 

The  propositions  are  these  three:  the  life  of  the  individual 
is  completely  under  the  control  of  natural  laws :  society, 
made  up  of  individuals,  is  under  the  control  of  the  same 
laws :  and  these  laws  are  physiological.  Hence,  physiology 
is  the  science  of  the  sciences — all  development  is  to  be 
X  explained  by  it. 

B>  Is  the  life,  now,  of  each  individual,  under  the  control  sim- 
ers.  I'and  solely  of  natural  laws?      Is  that  a  demonstrable  pro- 


340       DKAPEr's    intellectual   development    of    EUROPE. 

position  ?  Has  Dr.  Draper  proved  it?  'No  ;  he  just  assumes 
it  as  an  axiom,  as  if  it  were  incontrovertil)le  ;  and  he  no- 
where examines  or  defines  it  more  specifically.  And  yet,  in  his 
own  view,  everything  hinges  just  here.  He  seems  to  identify 
the  whole  life  of  the  individual  with  his  phj^sical  life.  Physical 
life,  bodily  growth,  physiology,  if  you  please,  is  under  the 
control  of  natural  law,  or  rather,  is  a  part  of  the  system 
of  natural  laws.  But  is  there  nothing  more  in  man  to  be 
developed  than  his  bodily  structure,  his  anatomical  and 
nervous  system  ?  The  latter  may  be  first  developed,  it  may 
be  the  substratum  of  the  other  developments  ;  but  is  it  iden- 
tical with  these  other  developments?  In  short,  has  man  a 
soul  as  well  as  a  body,  and  a  soul  distinguishable  from  his 
nervous  system  ?  If  he  has,  and  if  that  is  developed,  and  de- 
veloped according  to  its  own  laws — then  the  whole  theory  of 
the  book  is  null.  And  the  author  concedes  that  man  has  a 
resj)onsible,  immortal  soul.  This  concession  is  fatal  to  his 
theory.  He  says  (p.  589),  "  while  man  agrees  with  inferior 
beings  in  the  type  of  his  construction,  and  passes  in  his 
development  through  transformations  analogous  to  theirs,  he 
differs  from  them  all  in  this,  that  he  alone  possesses  an 
accountable,  immortal  soul."  Further  (p.  594) :  "  Animals 
remember,  man  alone  recollects.  Everything  demonstrates 
that  the  development  and  completion  of  this  instrument  of 
intellection  has  been  followed  by  the  su])er addition  of  an 
agent  or  principle  that  can  use  it."  "  From  the  silent  cham- 
bers and  winding  labyrinths  of  the  brain  the  veiled  enchant- 
ress looks  forth  on  the  outward  world,  and  holds  the  subserv- 
ient body  in  an  irresistible  spell."  Now  if  there  be  in  man 
a  soul  distinct  from  the  body,  a  soul  which  uses  the  body  only 
as  an  instrument,  a  soul  with  an  immortal  destiny,  then  we 
say  that  there  is  no  sense  or  i-eason  in  the  position,  that  the 
whole  development  of  inan  is  under  the  dominion  of  bodily 
or  physical  laws.  On  the  contrary,  reason  demands  of  us 
the  assumption,  that  the  soul  may  have  its  own  law  of  growth 
and  progress  equally  with  the  bod3\  Physiology  is  not,  and 
cannot  l3e,  all ;  there  is  also  a  psychology — there  is  a  psycho- 


THE    LAW    OF   MENTAL    GROWTH   NOT   PHYSIOLOGICAL.       341 

logical  as  well  as  a  physiological  development  even  of  the 
individual  life. 

And  this  is  still  further  evident  as  soon  as  we  come  to 
a  closer  analysis  of  the  growth  of  the  individual  man.  By 
what  physiological  laws  can  you  explain  perception,  memory, 
imagination,  logic,  and  reason?  AVliat  analogy  even  is  there 
between  the  processes  of  reasoning  and  any  physiological 
process  that  can  be  named  ?  A  body,  in  this  life,  may  be 
needed  for  all  these  mental  operations  ;  but  the  operations 
are  quite  distinct  from  any  of  the  laws  of  bodily  growth  and 
development.  The  mind  does  not  grow  in  the  same  way 
that  bones,  flesh,  and  nerves  grow.  The  law  of  the  one  cannot 
be  the  law  of  the  other.  What  is  there  in  the  nervous  sys- 
tem that  resembles  the  phenomena  of  consciousness — the  dis- 
tinction of  subject  and  object?  Can  our  ideas  of  universal 
and  immutable  truth  be  derived  from  aught  of  which  the 
senses  are  directly  cognizant  ?  In  sensation  itself  is  there  not 
an  element  which  cannot  be  deduced  from  any  properties  of 
the  nerves  as  a  material  substance  ?  Nay,  in  the  very  idea 
of  natural  law  itself,  as  constant  and  orderly,  is  there  not  a 
factor,  which  reason  alone,  and  not  the  senses,  can  recognize  ? 
And  when  we  attempt  to  educate  and  develop  the  soul  of 
the  individual  in  art,  in  morals,  in  religion,  even  in  science, 
are  we  not  obliged  to  resort  to  very  different  methods  from 
those  we  make  use  of  in  training  and  unfolding  his  bodily 
powers?  Where  then  is  the  sense  of  saying,  that  the  laws 
which  control  man  are  bodily  or  physical  or  physiological? 

This  fii'st  projiosition  then  of  Dr.  Draper's  book  is  un- 
proved, and  is  inconsistent  witli  his  own  concessions.  That  it 
is  original,  we  suppose  neither  he  nor  anyl)ody  else  would 
dream  of  asserting.  It  is  tlie  common-place  of  all  material- 
istic philosophy.  It  can  be  proved  only  as  materialism  is 
demonstrated. 

The  second  proposition  is,  that  society,  being  made  up  of 
individuals,  is  under  the  control  of  the  same  laws  with  them. 
Individual  and  social  life,  he  tells  us  over  and  over  again, 
'"  are   physiologically   inseparable   from   one   another ;     the 


342     deapee's  intellectual  development  of  eueope. 

course  of  commuiuties  bears  an  unmistakaljle  resemblance  to 
the  progress  of  an  individual ;  man  is  the  archetj'pe  or  exem- 
plar of  societ3\"  Nations,  like  individuals,  are  born,  proceed 
through  a  predestined  growth  and  die.  One  comes  to  its  end 
at  an  early  period,  and  in  an  untimely  way ;  another,  not 
until  it  has  gained  maturity.  One  is  cut  oft'  by  feebleness 
in  its  infanc}^,  another  is  desti'oyed  by  civil  disease,  another 
commits  political  suicide,  another  lingers  in  old  age.  But 
for  every  one  there  is  an  orderly  way  of  progress  to  its  final 
term,  whatever  that  term  may  be"  (pp.  6 J 5-16).  "The 
march  of  individual  existence  shadows  forth  the  march  of 
race  existence,  being,  indeed,  its  representative  on  a  little 
scale."  "  A  national  type  pursues  its  way  physically  and  in- 
tellectually through  changes  and  developments  answering  to 
those  of  the  individual,  and  being  represented  by  Infancy, 
Childhood,  Youth,  Manhood,  Old  Age,  and  Death  respec- 
tively "  (p.  11).  And  upon  this  general  view,  the  author 
rather  prides  himself,  as  his  consunnnate  work  :  '•  Whoever  has 
made  the  physical  and  intellectual  history  of  individual  man 
his  study,  will  be  prepared  to  admit  in  what  a-  surprising 
manner  it  foreshadows  social  history.  Tlie  equilihpium  and 
movement  of  humanity  are  altogether  j^hysiologioal j^heno- 
mena.  Yet  not  without  hesitation  may  such  an  opinion  be 
frankly  avowed,  since  it  is  offensive  to  the  pride,  and  to  many 
of  the  prejudices  and  interests  of  our  age"  (p.  2).  This  is 
what  he  calls  "  primordial  law." 

It  is  difficult  to  believe,  that  any  scholar  at  this  day  can 
imagine  that  there  is  in  this  general  scheme  the  slightest  de- 
gree of  novelty  ;  or,  that  it  helps  us  one  jot  in  understanding 
the  intellectual  development  of  the  human  race.  Certainly 
from  the  time  of  Pascal  this  idea  has  been  one  of  the  common- 
places of  literature.  Vico  brought  it  out  distinctly  in  rela- 
tion to  each  nation,  marking  the  stages  of  growth  and  decay. 
All  historians  of  any  reflection  have  made  use  of  it.  The 
analogy  is  on  the  very  surface  of  things.  You  have  mastered 
all  there  is  in  it,  just  as  soon  as  j^ou  have  said  to  yourself  that 
nations  and  races  begin  to  be,  grow,  become  mature  and  pass 


SOCIETY    AND   THE    INDIVIDUAL,  343 

away.  This  is  one  of  the  most  trivial  reflections  which  school- 
boys are  tang-ht.  And  the  analogy  with  the  individual  life  is 
jnst  as  common  and  tells  us  just  as  little.  The  analogy  liolds 
ahout  as  well  of  animals  and  plants,  as  it  does  of  men  :  these 
all  have  a  beginning,  a  youth,  a  maturity,  and  at  last  die.  A 
fact  common  to  botany,  zoology,  and  history,  can  hardly  be 
a  very  special  fact  in  history,  or  tell  us  much  about  its  laws 
and  order. 

How  much  does  it  tell  us  ?  Only  what  nobody  ever  doubted, 
or  ever  could  doubt :  that  all  that  exists  in  this  world,  in 
space  and  time,  has  had  and  will  have  a  beginning,  a  grow- 
ing and  an  ending,  in  the  individual  form  in  which  it  is  here 
manifested.  And  when  we  have  learned  that,  what  have  we 
learned  about  the  specific  nature,  characteristics  and  growth 
of  that  which  thus  appears  and  thus  passes  away  ?  Wh}^,  just 
nothing  at  all.  We  have  still  to  find  out  all  that  from  a  study 
of  the  objects  themselves  in  their  interior  structure.  The 
analogy  does  not  help  us  here  at  all.  What  the  plant  is,  what 
the  animal  is,  what  man  is,  what  society  is — what  are  the  laws 
and  developments  of  each  and  all  these — we  are  still  to  dis- 
cover from  a  particular  examination  of  each  by  itself.  The 
analogy  is  then,  just  good  for  nothing,  as  a  help  in  the  most 
important  part  of  our  investigation. 

Is  human  society,  as  a  whole,  under  the  same  laws  as  the 
individual,  and  under  no  other  ?  How  can  we  answer  this  ques- 
tion ?  Manifestly  only  by  studying  society  itself,  as  developed 
in  diiferent  times,  races  and  nations,  and  seeing  whether  there  is 
that  in  the  whole  which  is  not  in  the  parts  ;  or,  rather,  whether 
anything  is  developed  in  the  social  state,  in  nations,  in  races, 
which  could  not,  and  would  not,  be  developed  by  the  individ- 
ual alone.  Societ}'  may  come  and  go  like  individuals  ;  but 
in  coming  and  going  it  ma}'  unfold  powers,  capacities,  and 
ends  which  the  individual  alone  could  never  attain  unto.  All 
men  may  be  alike  in  living,  growing,  and  dying  ;  but  that  does 
not  prevent  one  man's  history  from  being  a  very  different  sort 
of  development  from  that  of  another.  Society  may  live,  grow, 
and  die  like  the  individual ;  but  then  its  development  may 


344      DEAPEk's   intellectual   development   of   EUROPE. 

have  resulted  in  something  more  than  can  be  comprised  in 
this  abstract  formula  for  transient  existence  in  time  and 
space.  This  physiological  law,  protruded  witli  such  j3arade 
of  science,  as  the  culmination  of  thought,  is  in  fact  one  of  the 
most  barren  schedules  of  human  progress  that  can  well  be 
excogitated. 

Society  is  indeed  made  up  of  individuals,  but  there  is  that 
developed  in  the  combination  which  could  not  be  developed 
in  the  parts.  Even  chemistry  might  teach  us  that  atoms  com- 
bined produce  entirely  different  results  from  what  they  ever 
would,  or  could,  in  their  isolation.  Doubtless  there  is  that  in 
each  atom  which  fits  it  for  such  combination  ;  but  yet  the  com- 
bined result  is  a  new  and  different  product.  Still  more  must 
this  be  the  case  when  the  elements  brought  together  are 
human  souls,  with  all  their  boundless  capacities  and  infinite 
possibilities  of  union,  conflict,  and  adjustment.  The  result 
must  be  sucli  as  we  can  find  no  strict  analogy  for  in  the  indi- 
vidual life.  Even  in  the  narrow  sphere  of  the  family,  in  its 
relations  of  parents  and  children,  brothers  and  sisters,  thei'e 
is  an  unfolding  of  the  moral  nature  and  of  the  affections,  of 
the  principles  of  love  and  duty,  such  as  the  mei-ely  individual 
life  cannot  attain  unto.  And  in  the  ordering  of  human  soci- 
ety, in  its  government,  laws,  and  institutions,  in  the  progress 
of  art,  science,  and  religion,  and  in  the  aims  which  every 
great  nation  has  in  view,  there  are  principles,  means,  and 
ends  involved,  wdiicli  far  surpass  any  possible  analogies  drawn 
from  the  individual  life,  and  still  more  from  physiology.  And 
when  we  come  to  the  vast  and  unfolding  drama  of  human 
history,  as  this  has  been  developed  in  the  successive  races  and 
nations  that  have  led  the  march  in  this  grand  and  solemn  pro- 
cession, there  are  and  must  be,  principles,  aims,  and  ends  that 
will  forever  elude  the  grasp  of  him  who  tries  to  hamper  and 
conti-act  our  vision  by  crude  formulas  about  "physiological 
laws."  Schelling  has  well  said  that  "  There  can  only  be  a 
history  of  such  beings  as  have  before  them  an  ideal  which  can 
never  be  realized  by  the  individual  alone,  but  only  by  the 
race  as  a  whole." 


ANALOGY   BETWEEN    THE   INDIVIDIJAL   AND    SOCIAL    LIFE.    345 

The  analogy  between  individual  and  social  life  also  fails  in 
another  aspect.  All  individuals  die ;  nations  rise  and  fall ; 
but  indi\iduals  and  nations  are  not  all  that  we  have  to  con- 
sider in  history.  There  are  also  the  different  races,  and  there 
is  also  the  race  as  a  whole.  The  races  of  men  do  not  die  out, 
as  do  the  separate  nations.  With  few  exceptions,  they  reap- 
pear under  other  national  forms,  and  perpetuate  their  life 
from  age  to  age.  And  the  human  race,  as  a  whole,  has  had, 
and  must  have,  a  continuous  being  until  the  great  end  of  its 
creation  and  historic  growth  is  reached.  Now,  it  is  just  with 
this  progress  of  the  race  as  a  whole  that  the  philosophy  of 
history  and  the  law  of  its  development  have  to  do ;  and  it  is 
just  here  that  the  analogy  with  the  individual  life  cannot  be 
carried  out.  There  is  as  yet  no  decay,  but  rather  progress,  of 
the  race  as  a  whole.  And  this  there  must  be  if  we  can  have 
any  general  scheme  of  human  history.  And  even  when  par- 
ticular nations  lose  their  geographical  boundaries  and  limits, 
and  are  said  to  die  out,  this  is  true  only  in  a  very  partial  and 
limited  sense.  Their  descendants  mingle  with,  and  help  to 
make,  other  nations.  Their  laws,  literature,  arts,  and  science 
survive,  and  become  the  property  of  other  generations.  And 
there  is  thus  a  continuous  life  of  the  human  race,  which  abides 
in  the  midst  of  all  the  changes  of  the  individuals.  What  is 
natural  and  physical  decays;  what  is  moral  and  spiritual 
survives,  and  shapes  the  future. 

This  analogy,  then,  between  the  individual  and  social  life, 
and  the  attempt  to  explain  all  history  by  such  an  analogy,  must 
be  barren  and  fruitless.  It  can  only  issue  in  eliminating  from 
the  life  of  the  race  its  most  essential  and  important  develop- 
ments and  ends.  It  narrows  our  view  of  man's  whole  historic 
career.  It  is  difficult  to  reconcile  it  witli  the  view  that  Provi- 
dence is  educating  the  race  for  moral  ends,  .by  means  of  a  moral 
government,  and  that  the  physical  is  subordinate  and  subservi- 
ent to  the  moral.  In  fact,  as  we  shall  see,  the  author  excludes 
the  moral  element  from  his  theory  of  the  progress  of  the  race. 

The  third  proposition  of  Dr.  Draper's  theory  is,  that  indi- 


346      DRAPEk's    intellectual    development    of    EUROPE. 

vidual  and  social  life  is  under  the  control  of  physiological 
laws.  History  is  to  be  read  by  the  light  of  physiology.  The 
history  of  "  the  intellectual  development  of  Europe,"  it  is 
claimed,  is  here  written  for  the  first  time  "in  accordance  with 
physiological  principles."  "  The  equilibrium  and  movement 
of  humanity  are  altogether  jjhysiological  p)lienomena."  To 
show  tliis  is  the  main  object,  that  it  is  shown  is  the  grand 
pretension,  of  the  volume.  The  author  has  written  a  work  oil 
physiology  of  considerable  repute  ;  and  this  is  the  complement 
of  that  work,  treating  of  man  in  his  social  relations,  in  the 
light  of  physiological  j)rincif)les.  This  claim  struck  us  as  so 
unique  that  we  have  examined  the  volume  with  sjjecial  care, 
in  the  hope  of  finding  some  light  cast  upon  the  bewilderment 
into  which  we  must  confess  the  project  cast  us.  We  could 
not  at  all  understand  what  the  writer  meant,  and  we  have 
searched  for  explanation  and  evidence.  But  our  investiga- 
tions have  been  utterly  fruitless.  After  reading  the  volume, 
its  arguments,  its  summaries,  we  are  still  as  much  in  the  dark 
as  ever.  It  will  scarcely  be  credited,  yet  it  is  still  a  fact,  that 
there  is  not  in  the  whole  work  any  attempt  to  explain  what  is 
meant  by  applying  physiology  to  history;  there  is  no  enumer- 
ation of  the  "  physiological  principles "  by  which  history  is  to 
be  elucidated ;  there  is  no  proof,  and  no  attempt  to  prove,  at 
any  point  or  juncture  of  the  historic  series,  that  the  develop- 
ment has  been  of  a  physiological  sort.  And,  upon  reflection, 
we  think  we  can  see  a  reason  for  this ;  and  that  is,  that  it  could 
not  possibly  be  proved  :  that  thei-e  is  no  way  by  which  it  can 
be  shown,  and  that  there  are  no  facts  to  show,  that  history  is  a 
branch  of  physiology — that  historical  laws  and  physiological 
laws  are  identical.  In  the  first  place,  the  author  has  not 
proved  this  thesis;  in  the  second  place,  he  could  not  if  he 
tried ;  in  the  tliird  jjlace,  if  he  did,  it  would  lead  to  a  variety 
of  absurdities. 

lie  has  nowhere,  we  say,  proved  his  prime  position — that 
history  moves  according  to  physiological  laws.  The  only 
appearance  of  an  attempt  at  this  is  found  in  a  few  passages, 
in  which  he  repeats  over  the  formula  aljout  Infancy,  Child- 


PHYSIOLOGICAL   LAWS   AND   NATIONAL   LIFE.  347 

liood,  Youth,  Manhood,  Old  Age,  and  Death,  as  applicable 
to  societies  and  nations  as  well  as  individuals ;  and,  as  if 
parallel  with  this,  the  division  of  the  progress  of  Greece  and 
Europe  into  periods  of  Incpiiiy,  of  Faith,  and  of  Reason. 
But  the  analogy  here  is  of  the  slightest.  Infancy  may  Ije 
credulous,  childhood  inquiring,  youth  believing,  manhood 
rational.  But  are  the  laws  by  which  childhood  is  led  to 
inquire,  or  youth  to  believe,  the  same  with  the  laws  by  which 
the  body  of  the  child  is  made  and  the  physiology  of  yonth  is 
developed?  The  physical  transition  from  youth  to  manhood 
is  in  accordance  with  certain  well-known  physiological  laws 
regulating  the  groM'th  of  the  body.  Now,  is  it  these  same 
laws,  and  no  other,  which  regulate  the  transition  in  a  nation 
from  the  age  of  faith  to  the  age  of  reason  ?  Is  there  any- 
thing in  the  age  of  faith  which  resembles  the  structure  and 
laws  of  the  human  body  when  that  body  is  in  its  youth?  Is 
there  anything  in  the  age  of  reason  which  resembles  the 
structure,  functions,  and  growth  of  the  human  body  when  it 
is  about  foi'ty  or  fifty  years  old  ?  Is  reason  developed  out  of 
faith  by  the  same  process  by  which  a  man  of  forty -live  is 
developed  out  of  a  man  of  thirtv-five  years  of  age  ?  Physi- 
ology, as  Dr.  Draper  treats  it,  in  his  manual  on  that  science, 
is  "  a  brancli  of  natural  philosophy,"  and  is  divided  into  two 
parts — "  statical  physiology,"  containing  "  the  conditions  of 
equilibrium  of  an  organized  form,"  and  "  dynamical  physi- 
ology," or  the  "  development "  of  the  organized  form,  its 
"  c<nirse  of  life."  Until  history  can  be  resolved  into  some 
definite  organized  form,  with  members  and  functions  i>hysi- 
cally  connected,  it  can  never  be  shown  that  it  is  only  '*  a 
chapter  in  physiology."  As  soon  as  it  is  attempted  to  make 
the  analogy  strict  and  scientific,  it  evaporates  into  a  fancy. 

Not  only  does  the  author  thus  neglect  the  proof  of  his  car- 
dinal position,  but,  we  add,  he  could  not  possibly  prove  it  if 
he  tried  to  do  so.  No  human  ingenuity  is  sufficient  to  show 
that  history  is  controlled  by  physiological  laws.  All  that 
there  is  in  it  is  the  simple  fact  that  the  human  beings  who  go 
to  make  up  history  are  in  part  animals,  and,  so  far  forth,  each 


34S       draper's    intellectual    development    of    EUROPE. 

one  of  them  is  under  the  laws  of  physiology.  But  that  the 
historic  laws  are  the  same  with  the  physiological  laws  which 
shape  their  bodies,  is  a  very  different  sort  of  a  proposition. 
Take,  for  example,  any  of  the  main  interests  of  society  on 
whose  progress  the  welfai-e  of  the  body  politic  is  conditioned, 
and  try  to  find  out  the  amouiit  of  physiology  which  is  con- 
tained in  it.  There  are  in  histor}',  says  the  author,  "  five 
intellectual  manifestations  to  which  we  may  resort — philoso- 
phy, science,  literature,  religion,  government."  Now,  what 
physiological  principles  are  illustrated  and  exemplified  in  the 
progress  of  mankind  in  any  one  of  these  higher  intellectual 
manifestations  ?  The  growth  of  philosophy,  for  instance,  is 
conditioned  upon  the  discovery  and  organization  of  ideas  and 
truth.  What  physiological  law  is  illustrated  by  the  jjrocesses 
of  induction  and  deduction,  which  are  necessary  to  the  un- 
folding of  truth  ?  What  is  there  akin  even  to  the  inductive 
formula  in  any  of  the  laws  by  which  the  nervous  system  is 
fashicmed  andgi'ows?  What  physiological  law  is  exempli- 
fied in  those  intuitions  by  which  we  j'ecognize,  and  rest  in, 
ultimate  and  universal  truths  ?  Do  we  pass  from  the  prem- 
ises to  the  inference  in  a  logical  argument  in  the  same  way 
in  which  digestion  is  carried  forwai-d  in  the  bodily  system  ? 
The  subjects  compared  are  manifestly  so  disparate  that  we 
cannot  conceive  of  even  a  fugitive  analogy,  much  less  of  an 
identity,  between  them.  So,  too,  it  is  wdth  literature,  reli- 
gion, and  government.  The  fundamental  ideas  in  each  are 
entirely  different  from  the  fundamental  idea  of  physiology, 
and  consequently  the  laws  of  their  growth  or  development 
must  be  different.  The  idea  of  animal  life  is  the  germinant 
idea  of  physiology ;  the  idea  of  God  is  the  essential  idea  of 
religion  ;  the  idea  of  justice  is  the  controlling  idea  of  govern- 
ment ;  and  until  it  can  be  shown  that  animal  life,  God,  and 
justice  are  all  identical,  it  cannot  be  shown  that  physiologi- 
cal laws  control  the  progress  of  I'eligion  and  of  government. 

And  this  also  in  part  establishes  our  third  remark  upon  this 
remarkable  scheme,  that  is,  if  it  were  proved  that  physiologi- 
cal laws  are  the  same  as  the  laws  of  history,  we  should  be 


HISTORY   NOT   TO    BE   EXPLAINED    PHYSIOLOGICALLY.  349 

landed  in  a  variety  of  absurdities.  One  absurdity  is  this — 
that  physiology  is  the  queen  of  the  sciences ;  that  all  art, 
ethics,  politics,  and  religion  are  but  branches  of  the  science 
of  animal  life.  For  if  physiological  laws  make  and  control 
all  historical  developments,  then  whatever  appears  in  history 
is  but  an  efflux  of  this  stream  of  animal  life.  We  should 
have  to  reform  all  our  processes  of  education,  and  all  our 
theories  in  art  and  morals,  to  say  nothing  of  religion.  The 
central  idea  of  philosophy  would  henceforth  have  to  be  that 
of  the  growth  of  a  physical  germ.  Instead  of  discoursing  of 
the  laws  of  beauty,  we  must  talk  about  tlie  physiology  there- 
of ;  instead  of  enforcing  the  moral  law  we  must  enjoin  obedi- 
ence to  physical  law ;  instead  of  commending  religious  duties 
to  the  conscience  we  must  insist  upon  our  physiological 
duties.  The  category  of  physical  development  must  displace 
that  of  an  immutable  rectitude.  And  how  would  the  other 
sciences  fare  in  the  light  of  such  a  tlieory  ?  Can  they,  too, 
be  i-educed  to  physiology  ?  Might  they  not  also  set  up 
equally  good  claims  to  such  universality?  AVhy  not  just  as 
well  attempt  to  explain  all  historj^  on  chemical,  or  astrono- 
mical, or  mathematical  principles,  as  on  physiological  ?  "VYe 
reconunend  the  attempt  to  the  experts  in  these  sciences,  not 
doubting  that  they  can  show  as  many  and  as  good  reasons  in 
their  favor,  as  this  volume  adduces  in  support  of  its  physi- 
ological hypothesis  about  the  intellectual  development  of 
Europe. 

Such  are  the  main  propositions  of  this  volume,  so  far  as  it 
lays  claim  to  originality  ;  and  we  have  dwelt  upon  them  more 
fully  because  they  fall  in  with  some  tendencies  of  the  times 
which  the  author  may  not  wish  to  favor,  but  which  such  vague 
and  unscientific  treatment  of  the  most  momentous  theories 
surely  encourages.  There  may  be  in  some  religions  thinkers 
what  scientific  men  call  cant  and  prejudice  ;  but  there  is  also 
among  some  of  the  devotees  of  science  a  flippancy  in  talking 
about  moral  and  religious  truth  which  is  far  more  detrimental 
to  the  best  and  highest  interests  of  man.  Religious  convictions 
have  a  strong  background  in  the  nature  and  necessity  oi  reli- 


350       draper's    INTELLFJCTUAL    development    of    EUROPE, 

gion  itself.  Keligious  truth  is  vital  ;  scientific  trutli  is  valu- 
able. Science  will  vindicate  itself ;  the  tendencies  of  the 
times,  the  progress  of  investigation,  favor  it.  We  have  no 
quarrel  with  it,  and  no  fear  of  it,  in  its  proper  sj)liere.  But 
yet  it  must  learn  and  know  its  own  metes  and  bounds,  and  not 
obtrude  its  partial  principles  into  other  and  different  spheres. 
Just  as  soon  as  it  takes  up  the  assumption  that  natural  science 
is  all  in  all,  that  induction  is  the  only  road  to  truth,  that 
all  history  and  progress  are  conditioned  by  physical  laws,  and 
these  alone,  just  so  soon  it  arra^^s,  and  must  array,  against 
its  pretensions,  not  only  the  religious  convictions  and  belief  of 
tlie  race,  but  also  the  prescripts  of  the  moral  sense,  and  like- 
wise that  instinctive  belief  in  the  reality  of  sjii ritual  truth, 
which  has  led  the  greatest  thinkers  of  every  age  to  elaborate 
systems  of  metaph^'sics.  We  are  far  from  classing  Dr.  Di'aper 
with  those  sceptical  materialists  who  deny  moral  truth,  the 
immortality  of  the  soul,  tlie  being  and  government  of  God, 
and  the  beneficence  of  the  Christian  faith.  There  are  inci- 
dental statements  scattered  through  his  work  which  imply 
that  he  holds  to  these.  But  yet  the  undoubted  drift  of  his 
theory  is  to  encourage  those  speculations  which  run  in  a  differ- 
ent direction,  and  enthrone  physical  laws  as  supreme.  His 
better  nature  may  here  be  inconsistent  with  his  philosophy; 
but  it  is  with  his  philosophy  that  we  have  to  do  in  criticising 
his  labors. 

And  there  are  several  points  in  which  this  tendency  is  mani- 
fest, besides  the  main  theories  on  which  we  have  ab'eady  com- 
mented. One  is  in  expressly  subordinating  the  moral  to  the 
intellectual,  denying  in  fact  the  reality  of  a  proper  moral 
develoj^ment  of  the  race.  A  kindred  error,  involved  in  this, 
is,  that  he  makes  intellectual  development,  especially  in  the 
domain  of  the  natural  sciences,  to  be  the  aim  and  issue  of  the 
whole  historic  course.  He  also  casts  contempt  upon  all  meta- 
physics, properly  so  called,  taking  the  position  that  meta- 
physics is  to  be  fashioned  and  reformed  by  physiology. 

As  to  the  subordination  of  the  moral  element  in  human 
progress,  the  broad  ground  assumed  is,  "  that  the  aim  of  Na.- 


MORAL  XOT  SUBORDINATE  TO  INTELLECTUAL  DEVELOPMENT.  351 

tni-e  is  not  at  moral,  but  intellectual  development."  "  The 
intellectual  has  always  led  the  ^vay  in  social  advancement,  the 
moral  having  been  subordinate  thereto.  Tlie  former  has  been 
the  mainspring  of  movement,  the  latter  passively  affected.  It 
is  a  mistake  to  make  the  progress  of  society  depend  on  that 
which  is  itself  controlled  by  a  higher  power.  In  the  earlier 
and  inferior  stages  of  individual  life  we  may  govern  through 
the  moral  alone.  In  that  way  we  may  guide  children,  but  it 
is  to  the  understanding  of  the  adult  that  we  must  appeal  " 
(p.  591).  What  the  author  means  by  "moral"  and  what  by 
"  intellectual"  it  is  somewhat  difficult  to  say,  for  lie  nowhere 
defines  the  terms  ;  but  takiug  them  in  their  ordinary  sense, 
we  have  here  the  theory  of  Comte,  Buckle,  and  the  positivists 
expressed  in  an  unqualified  way.  How  a  believer  in  God  and 
a  divine  government,  and  in  man's  immortal  destiny,  can  advo- 
cate such  a  view  we  cannot  conceive.  Morality,  from  its  very 
nature,  sets  before  us  as  our  ideal  the  great  end  of  human 
life — a  life  of  love  to  God  and  love  to  man,  of  justice,  truth 
and  righteousness.  The  objects  for  which  states  labor,  in  their 
highest  functions  and  aims,  are  essentially  moral  objects.  Un- 
less intellectual  and  scientific  progress  contribute  to  the  devel- 
opment of  human  rights  and  the  establishment  of  justice, 
freedom,  and  civil  equality^,  they  fail  of  their  best  end,  and 
may  onlj^  entail  evil  upon  society.  In  constructing  a  scheme 
of  human  life  and  of  human  society,  the  intellectual  must 
subserve  the  moral,  for  the  moral  includes  the  great  and  per- 
manent interests  of  mankind.  Still  more  emphatically  is  this 
the  case,  when  we  turn  from  human  to  divine  governnient  and 
laws.  By  the  consent  of  the  conscience  and  reason  of  the 
race,  God  is  essentially  good  and  liolj^ ;  and  to  diffuse  goodness 
and  establish  righteousness  is  the  great  end  of  creation.  No- 
body can  believe  that  God's  chief  end  for  man  is  to  develop 
his  intellect.  Even  Plato  taught  that  to  escape  evil  we  must 
be  like  God,  and  that  to  be  like  God  we  must  be  righteous. 
God's  government  of  his  ]-ational  creatures  is  essentially  a 
moral  government ;  and  as  soon  as  we  doubt  or  deny  this 
there  remains  for  us  no  God  to  love,  worship  and  obey,  but 


352       draper's    INTELLECTCTAL    development    of    EUROPE. 

only  some  blind  force  or  unconscious  and  impersonal  reason. 
Only  raateiialism  or  pantheism  can  consistently  subordinate 
moral  to  natural  or  intellectual  ends.  It  is  indeed  true  that 
tliere  is  not  in  human  history  such  a  development  of  new 
moral  principles,  as  there  is  of  new  scientific  facts  and  laws : 
but  tliis  rather  attests  tlie  glory  of  moral  truth,  and  proves  the 
real  dignity  and  worth  of  human  nature.  New  moral  truths 
are  not  discovered,  any  more  than  new  intuitive  truths  are 
discovered ;  for  these  prime  principles  are  the  original  en- 
dowment of  man  as  a  moral  and  rational  being.  But  there 
are  as  conspicuous  and  new  applications  and  developments  of 
moral  truth  in  the  progress  of  society,  as  there  are  of  scien- 
tific and  of  intellectual  truth.  The  truths  are  unchangeable 
in  their  nature  and  evidence,  but  ever  varying  in  their  a]:)pli- 
cations  to  linman  society  and  life.  Human  rights,  justice 
among  men,  forms  of  government,  the  principles  of  benevo- 
lence and  charity — are  not  these  advancing  in  their  applica- 
tion to  society  as  the  race  advances?  Is  not  here  very  much 
of  the  real  progress  of  the  race  to  be  found  ?  Dr.  Draper 
tells  us  that  moral  motives  are  for  "  inferior  stages"  of  cul- 
ture, for  children  and  youth.  But  what  kind  of  a  culture  is 
that  which  leads  a  pei-son  to  put  the  moral  virtues,  such  as 
justice  and  love,  below  intellectual  attainments?  In  spite  of 
the  positivists  we  must  still  hold,  that  a  man  may  know  all 
chemistry,  geology  and  even  physiology,  and  yet  if  he  have 
not  charity  he  is  nothing.  The  fallacy  here  seems  to  consist 
in  this,  that  because  science  brings  to  light  some  uew  facts 
and  principles,  and  morals  remain  immutable  in  their  nature 
and  obligations,  therefore  there  is  progress  in  science  and 
none  in  morals.  But  in  the  development  and  application  of 
moral  truth  there  may  be  as  conspicuous  progress  in  human 
society  as  there  is  in  tlie  growth  of  tlie  knowledge  of  physi- 
cal laws.  Bishop  Butler  miglit  still  give  a  few  useful  hints 
even  to  men  of  science  :  "  Knowledge  is  not  our  proper  happi- 
ness. .  .  .  Men  of  deep  research  and  curious  inquiry  should 
just  be  put  in  mind  not  to  mistake  what  they  are  doing.  If 
their  discoveries  serve  the  cause  of  virtue  and  reliirion  in  the 


THE    AIM    OF    SOCIAL    PROGRESS.  353 

way  of  proof,  motive  to  practice,  or  assistance  in  it,  or  if  they 
tend  to  render  life  less  unhappy  and  promote  its  satisfactions, 
then  they  are  most  usefully  employed  ;  but,  bringing  tilings 
to  light,  alone  and  of  itself,  is  of  no  manner  of  use  any  other- 
wise than  as  an  entertainment  or  diversion.'"  (Butler's  Works. 
Sermon  xv.) 

Kindred  with  this  theory,  is  that  which  makes  intellectual 
development,  especially  in  tlie  domain  of  science,  to  be  the 
aim  and  issue  of  man's  histoi-ic  career.  The  refutation  of 
the  above  scheme  in  fact  includes  the  refutation  of  tliis.  We 
do  not  doubt  that  the  physical  sciences  are  to  advance  and 
prosper,  and  contribute  to  the  well-being  of  mankind.  We 
welcome  every  addition  to  this  stock  of  human  knowledge, 
and  neither  contemn  nor  fear  its  progress.  Natural  philoso- 
phers are  aiding  in  the  great  work  of  giving  man  dominion 
over  nature.  But  to  make  such  conquest  of  nature  the  great 
end  of  the  race  is  to  restrict  our  view  of  man  to  his  earthly 
and  temporal  condition — to  cut  him  off  from  God  and  im- 
mortality. Dr.  Draper  makes  "  the  improvement  and  organ- 
ization of  national  intellect "  to  be  the  aim  of  the  social  prog- 
ress of  great  communities,  and  chiefly  through  and  by  the 
advance  of  science.  This  he  insists  upon  in  the  last  chapter 
of  his  work,  in  a  curious  and  artificial  comparison  of  Chinese 
with  European  civilization,  as  if  these  were  the  two  great 
types.  There  is  a  double  error  here :  one,  that  of  making 
intellectual  development  the  main  thing;  another,  that  of 
confounding  intellectual  progress  with  the  growth  of  physi- 
cal researches.  Of  the  former  we  have  perhaps  said  enough. 
As  to  the  latter,  it  shows  in  a  striking  way,  how  a  proficient 
in  one  branch  of  investigation  is  inclined  to  assign  to  it  an 
undue  prominence.  The  author's  whole  argument  runs  into 
the  conclusion,  that  the  age  of  reason  is  identical  with  the 
age  in  which  the  positive  sciences  are  most  fully  developed — 
that  reason  is  unfolded  fully  and  consciously  only  or  chiefly 
through  the  progress  of  physical  discovery.  That  some  in- 
tellectual faculties  are  fostered  and  developed  by  tlie  study 
of  the  natural  sciences  is  indisputable.  But  tlie  intellect  of 
23 


354      draper's    intellectual   development    of   EUROPE. 

man  has  a  wide  scope.  It  includes  the  art  of  reasoning;  but 
we  do  not  always  find  our  most  expert  logicians  among  the 
geologists  and  physiologists.  It  embraces  imagination  also : 
but  our  highest  poets  are  not  necessarily  deep  in  anatomy. 
Intellect,  too,  should  be  conversant  with  ultimate  truths;  yet 
we  cannot  say  that  the  natural  sciences  directly  contribute  to 
elucidate  such  truths.  The  highest  effort  of  the  intellect 
must  be  in  the  attempt  to  construct  a  complete  system  of 
truth,  to  organize  the  realm  of  ideas  in  one  scheme.  Of  that 
scheme,  the  natural  sciences  may  give  an  important  part,  but 
yet  not  the  most  important.  To  reduce  all  reason  and  intel- 
lect to  the  attempt  at  understanding  physical  law  alone  is  to 
degfrade  and  not  ennoble  human  nature.  Such  a  reason 
would  not  be  reason  in  any  recognized  or  intelligible  use  of 
the  term. 

In  harmony  with  this  theory  is  Dr.  Draper's  contempt  of 
metaphysics,  and  his  strange  assumption,  that  future  meta- 
physical systems  are  to  be  written  on  physiological  principles 
alone.  In  givino-  his  sketch  of  the  Greek  culture  he  intro- 
duces  a  superficial  account  of  the  Greek  philosophy,  evidently 
drawn  from  second-rate  sources.  But  in  his  whole  narration 
about  European  civilization,  he  totally  ignores  its  mental, 
moral,  and  metaphysical  sciences.  A  man  who  can  write  a 
history  of  "the  intellectual  development  of  Europe,"  and  say 
nothing  of  the  systems  of  Descartes,  Malel)ranche,  and  Spin- 
oza, pass  over  Leibnitz  and  Kant  with  a  word  or  two,  utterly 
neglect  Fichte,  Schelling,  and  Ilegel,  not  refer  to  Cousin,  and 
pass  by  in  silence  Keid,  Stewart,  Mill,  and  Hamilton,  must 
have  a  very  singular  notion  of  the  task  he  has  set  before 
himself.  In  fact,  the  last  part  of  his  work  is  really  not  much 
more  than  a  sketch  of  the  progress  of  the  natural  sciences. 
He  says  himself,  "  the  reader  has  doubtless  remarked  that,  in 
the  historical  sketch  of  the  later  progress  of  Euroj)e  given  in 
this  book,  I  have  not  referred  to  metaphysics,  or  psychology, 
or  mental  philosophy.  ...  It  is  only  through  the  physical 
that  the  metaphysical  can  be  discovered."  This  deficiency,  if 
there  were  no  other,  stamps  the  volume  as  really  worthless  in 


PHYSIOLOGY    AND    KEFORM   OF   METAPHYSICS.  355 

respect  to  its  professed  object.  For  the  intellectual  history  of 
Europe  is  in  great  part  summed  up  in  its  psychologies  and 
metaphysics.  The  author  might  just  as  well  write  a  physi- 
ology without  alluding  to  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  or  a 
botany  without  allusion  to  sap.  It  would  be  no  more  of  a 
blunder.  And  from  the  specimens  he  has  given  us  of  his 
knowledge  and  acumen  about  metaphysical  systems,  we  are 
inclined  to  think  that  there  is  some  reason  for  this  silence. 
He  does  not  know  or  understand  these  great  sp»eculative  at- 
tempts of  modern  thought.  He  is  not  able  to  grapj)le  with 
the  subjects  which  they  present.  Thus  his  account  of  Kant 
is  all  a  mistake.  He  ascribes  to  him  the  view  (p.  172)  "  that 
there  is  but  one  source  of  knowledge,  the  union  of  the  object 
and  the  sul)ject — hut  two  elements  thereof^  space  and  time." 
This  is  an  inexcusable  blunder.  So,  too,  in  his  speculations 
on  tlie  criterion  of  truth,  he  comes  to  the  conclusion,  "  that  in 
the  unanimous  consent  of  the  entire  human  race  lies  the  hu- 
man criterion  of  truth."  What  a  valuable  criterion  !  With 
all  deference  to  the  author's  scientific  knowledge,  we  must  say 
that  he  is  not  the  man,  qualified  by  either  his  attainments  or 
his  grasp,  to  pass  sentence  on  the  works  of  the  great  thinkers 
of  modern  Europe,  to  scoff  at  metaphysics,  or  proclaim  the 
decrepitude  of  theology. 

He  intimates,  indeed,  that  metaphysics  is  to  be  reformed  by 
physiology.  This  crops  out  in  several  passages.  But  the 
idea  is  not  further  developed.  We  wish  he  would  undertake 
the  task.  We  should  like  to  see  the  result.  Metaphysics  on 
physiological  principles  would  certainly  be  a  novelty.  Meta- 
physics is  the  science  of  truth  and  being :  physiology  is  the 
science  of  natural  organisms.  Has  the  author  any  idea  of 
what  he  means  when  he  says,  that  all  truth,  all  ideas,  the 
philosophy  of  being,  can  be  evolved  from  physiology,  and  de- 
veloped on  strictly  physiological  principles?  We  should  just 
as  soon  think  of  developing  the  moral  law  from  geology,  or 
constructing  the  science  of  government  by  means  of  botanical 
principles. 

There  are  some  other  incidental  points  in  this  work  which 


356       draper's    IXTELLECTCAL    development    of    EUROPE. 

we  had  iiitencled  to  comment  upon,  but  we  can  only  make  a 
passing  reference  to  tliem.  His  judgment  on  Lord  Bacon  is 
absurdly  unjust,  describing  liim  as  "a  pretender  in  science,  a 
time-serving  politician,  an  insidious  lawyer,  a  corrupt  judge, 
a  bad  man."  His  judgment  on  the  Baron  of  Yerulam  may 
perchance  react  on  himself,  that  "  with  the  audacity  of  ignor- 
ance, he  presumed  to  criticise  what  he  did  not  understand." 
Of  Milton's  Paradise  Lost,  we  are  told  that,  "  a  Manichean 
composition  in  reality,  it  was  mistaken  for  a  Christian  poem." 
Ilis  account  of  the  early  Christian  controversies,  the  Athana- 
sian  and  Augustinian,  is  loose  and  incomplete — giving  the 
mere  surface  of  the  matter;  as  is  the  case  too  with  his  allu- 
sions to  the  scholastic  theology,  and  the  (-entral  question  of 
nominalism  and  realism.  lie  repeatedly  discredits  miraculous 
interventions.  Ilis  sketches  c»f  earlv  Christian  and  mediseval 
history  do  not  betray  any  acquaintance  with  the  latest  and 
best  literature  of  the  subject.  He  talks  of  the  "  grim  ortho- 
dox productions  of  the  wearisome  and  ignorant  fathers  of  the 
church."  Ilis  estimate  of  the  value  and  power  of  the  Mo- 
hammedan influence  is  greatly  exaggerated.  It  is  only  in  the 
account  of  the  progress  of  the  natural  sciences,  and  in  some 
of  his  speculations,  analogies,  and  groupings  in  this  depart- 
ment, that  the  volume  can  be  considered  as  having  added  to 
our  stock  of  knowledge,  or  can  be  recommended  for  use.  In 
its  main  theory  and  aim  it  is  a  mistake  and  a  failure,  and  in 
some  of  its  principles  it  favors  pernicious  tendencies. 

Theology  and  metaphysics  have  interests  to  guard,  as  sacred, 
to  say  the  least,  as  those  of  the  positive  sciences.  Both  these 
high  branches  of  thought  have  their  own  history,  their  fitting 
methods,  their  proper  domain.  Science  also  has  its  rightful 
sphere,  its  appropriate  methods,  its  legitimate  principles  and 
results.  It  is  to  study  and  interpret  nature.  Let  it  do  its 
work  well  and  thoroughly.  But  it  has  no  right  to  impose  its 
processes  and  principles  upon  the  spiritual  world.  Spirit  can- 
not be  explained  by  matter,  nor  the  laws  of  spirit  by  the  laws 
of  matter.  Physiology  is  excellent  and  useful  in  its  place : 
but  it  is  not  ethics,  it  is  not  metaphysics,  it  is  not  theology  — 


THEOLOGY    AXD   METAPHYSICS.  357 

nor  does  it  give  the  law  even  to  history.  History  inchides  it, 
but  it  inchides  a  vast  deal  more,  tlie  development  of  man's 
whole  nature,  nnder  a  divine  guidance,  towards  the  highest 
moral  and  spiritual  ends.  And  this  development  and  these 
ends  are  to  be  explained,  if  at  all,  not  on  physiological,  but 
on  moral  and  spii  itual  principles.  Providence,  and  not  natural 
law,  controls  the  course  of  history  and  determines  the  destiny 
of  the  race. 


WHEDON   ON   THE  WILL/ 


The  conflict  between  freedom  and  necessity  has  agitated 
all  schools  of  philosophy  and  theology.  Fate  and  chance, 
necessity  and  contingencj^,  divine  sovereignty  and  free  will, 
foreknowledge  and  self-determination,  certainty  and  power  to 
the  contrary,  law  and  liberty — all  these  contrasted  phrases 
indicate  different  forms  of  the  same  radical  problem.  The 
whole  question  centres  in  the  application  of  the  universal  and 
rational  idea  of  causality  to  the  acts  of  the  Will.  Is  the  Will 
wholly  and  purely  cause,  or  does  it  come  under  the  law  of 
cause  and  effect  ?  The  intricacy  of  the  inquiry  makes  it  diffi- 
cult ;  its  vital  issues  make  it  momentous.  The  government  of 
God,  and  the  responsibility  of  man  are  equally  involved. 

At  the  outset,  each  of  the  two  factors,  divine  sovereignty 
and  man's  f i-ee  will,  seems  to  have  for  itself  sufiicient  evidence. 
In  simple  and  direct  consciousness  no  embarrassment  is  felt ; 
but  in  the  reflex  consciousness  of  the  philosophic  mind  there 
come  up  conflicting  speculations,  which  either  imperil  human 
responsibility  or  impugn  the  divine  majesty.  The  problem  is, 
to  reconcile  the  two ;  or,  at  least,  so  to  state  each  that  the 
other  shall  not  be  deprived  of  its  rights.  And  here  confusion 
is  apt  to  arise,  whether  from  poverty  of  language,  inaccuracy 
of  thought,  or  positive  inability  to  grasp  the  hidden  connections 
of  things  so  diverse  and  so  profound.     It  may  be,  that  from 

*  From  the  American  Presbyterian  and  Theological  Review,  for  January, 
1865. 

The  Freedom  op  the  Will  as  a  Basis  of  Human  Responsibility 
AND  A  Divine  Goveknment.     By  D.  D.  Whedon,  D.D.     New  York. 

1864.  pp.  438. 


360  WHEDON    ON    THE    WILL. 

the  nature  of  the  case,  we  cannot  fully  master  the  consilience 
of  law  and  liberty,  nntil  we  can  fathom,  not  only  the  depths  of 
hnraan  consciousness,  but  also  the  mystery  of  the  divine  agency. 
And  this  sole  thought,  rightly  weighed,  will  dint  the  edge  of 
many  a  sharp  definition.  Man's  freedom  may  be  so  defined, 
as  logically  to  exclude  even  foreknowledge  ;  God's  agency 
may  be  so  defined,  as  to  imply  that  he  is  the  eflicient  cause  of 
all  human  volitions.  And  though  we  cannot  penetrate  the 
interaction  of  the  two,  yet  we  may  see  when  either  is  ruled 
out  by  the  very  terms  in  which  the  other  is  propounded. 
Though  we  cannot  solve  a  mj'stery,  we  ma}"  appreciate  a  logi- 
cal contradiction.  The  problem  is  not  a  simple  one,  to  be 
answered  by  an  analysis  of  one  series  of  similar  facts ;  but  it 
is  in  the  highest  degree  complex,  reaching  to  the  very  poles  of 
the  moral  universe.  No  one  is  prepai-ed  to  discuss  it,  who 
lias  not  an  awe-inspiring  sense  of  the  divine  majesty,  as  well 
as  a  deep  conviction  of  the  difiiculties  that  environ  the  ulti- 
mate moral  preferences  of  a  responsible  human  will. 

We  are  apt  to  itnagine  that  the  acts  of  the  will  are  simple, 
and  easy  of  definition.  As  revealed  in  immediate  conscious- 
ness these  acts  are  simple,  being  the  direct  expression  of  per- 
sonal power ;  but  the  will,  in  its  supreme  preferences,  contains 
the  most  complex  and  subtle  elements  of  our  moral  life.  The 
will,  in  fact,  brings  our  whole  being  into  concentrated  expres- 
sion. At  the  basis  are  the  generic  elements  of  human  nature  ; 
these  are  individualized  in  a  distinct  moral  personality  ;  and 
the  person,  putting  forth  power,  especially  in  the  form  of 
choice  or  preference,  is  the  Will.  It  is  only  logically  that  the 
wall  is  distinguishable  from  the  man  or  person ;  really,  it  is 
never  so.  And  all  the  other  so-called  powers  or  faculties  of 
the  mind  converge  here ;  they  run  into,  and  so  complicate, 
the  will's  energy.  It  is  usually  said,  that  the  intellect  acts 
first,  and  then  the  feelings,  and  then  the  will ;  and  this  to  a 
certain  extent  is  true,  as  in  forjnal,  deliberate  choice;  but  this 
is  far  from  comprising  the  whole  of  the  will's  agency.  For  a 
subtler  analysis  indicates,  that  it  is  rather  below  than  on  the 
surface  of  the  other  powers  of  the  mind — next  to  the  very 


CONDITIONS    OF    ACTUAL    CHOICE.  361 

person  ;  and  that  it  is  implicated  in  all  putting  forth  of  power, 
whether  internally  or  externally.  Its  chief  function,  however, 
is  in  choice  ;  and  this  is  in  the  two-fold  form  of  immanent 
preference  and  executive  acts. 

In  the  idea,  and  in  the  act  of  choice,  it  is  of  course  implied 
that  there  may  be  (not  that  there  always  are)  two  or  moi-e 
objects  or  ends  in  view ;  that  between  them  election  is  to  be 
iTfiade ;  and  that;  so  far  as  the  general  capacity  of  choice  is 
concerned,  there  is  a  natural  ]30ssibility  of  electing  the  one  or 
the  other.  But  the  actual  choosing  is  dependent  on  other 
conditions  than  this  possibility  of  different  elections ;  it  in- 
cludes as  well,  and  by  an  equal  stringency,  motives,  opportu- 
nities, and  the  moral  bias,  or  antecedent  state,  of  the  will 
itself.  These  all  help  to  constitute  the  volition.  And,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  the  generic  bias  of  the  will,  its  moral  habit, 
determines  the  special  volitions,  until  some  great  crisis  comes. 
Every  human  being  is  in  such  a  state  in  i-espect  to  sin,  until 
he  is  led,  and  only  by  divine  grace,  to  think  upon  his  ways 
and  come  to  his  right  mind.  And  this  moral  inability  of  the 
sinner  to  repent  and  turn  unto  God,  without  the  impulse  and 
aid  of  divine  grace,  is  as  certain  as  any  fact  in  man's  spiritual 
history.  In  human  consciousness  it  is  reconcilable  and  recon- 
ciled with  the  deejiest  sense  of  responsibility  and  guilt ;  so 
that  it  is  only  the  logic  of  sophistry,  and  not  the  voice  of  con- 
sciousness or  conscience,  whicli  sets  the  two  at  variance. 
Whenever  man  is  religious,  and  so  far  forth  as  he  is  religious, 
he  feels  and  knows  his  need,  especially  as  a  sinner,  of  entire 
dependence  on  God's  grace  for  renewal  and  redemption.  And 
wiien  his  trust  in  that  orace  is  njost  absorbini;-  when  his  will 
and  the  divine  will  flow  together,  then,  too,  he  has  the  high- 
est conscious  sense  of  freedom ;  for  his  whole  soul  goes  out  in 
unimpeded  love  to  God  ;  he  has  found  the  metes  and  measure 
of  his  moral  being,  and  in  the  highest  moral  necessity  is  con- 
scious of  the  highest  moral  freedom.  Sin  is  a  bondage  of  the 
soul;  and  in  holiness  alone  is  its  perfect  liberty  reinstated. 

These  now  are  patent  and  substantial  facts  about  human 
nature,  and  man's  moral  experience  and  history,  whicli  every 


362  WHEDON   ON   THE   WILL. 

theory  of  the  will  is  bound  to  recognize.  They  bring  out 
some  of  the  main  points  in  the  perennial  controversy  between 
Calvinists  and  Arminians,  which  Dr.  Whedon  has  renewed  in 
his  treatise  on  the  Freedom  of  the  Will.  The  author  is  well 
known  as  the  able  and  diligent  editor  of  the  Methodist  Quar- 
terly Review^  and  is  looked  upon  as  theacatest  representative 
of  the  theology  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church.  His  book, 
nominally  an  essay  on  the  Will,  is  really  an  advocacy  of  Ar- 
minianisra  and  an  attack  on  Calvinism.  And  he  brings  all 
Calvinists,  old  school  and  new  school,  in  New  England  and  in 
all  branches  of  the  Presbystei'ian  church,  under  the  same  con- 
demnation. It  is  rather  amusing  to  see  Princeton  and  Ando- 
ver,  Bangor  and  New  Haven,  swept  into  the  same  drag-net ; 
all  classed  as  "  necessarians."  The  utmost  he  will  concede  to 
the  Calvinistic  advocates,  even  of  "  power  to  the  contrary  "  is, 
that  they  are  "crude  freedomists."  He  will  not  admit  them 
into  the  full  Arminian  fellowship  unless  they  are  prepared  to 
say,  that  the  "  power  to  the  contrary"  has  actually  been  exer- 
cised, or,  that  they  do  sometimes  choose  from  the  weaker  in- 
ducement; or,  that  God  simply  foreknows  and  does  not  fore- 
ordain— for,  after  all,  it  is  the  divine  decree  which  most 
gravels  a  consistent  Arminian.  Yet  still  we  think,  the  author 
is  rather  hard  on  some  who  have  gone  as  far  as  they  could  in 
his  line,  and  only  stopped  just  short  of  absurdities  and  con- 
tradictions, lie  seems  to  think  that  there  are  but  two  words 
in  the  whole  discussion, y/'^e^Jci/yi  and  necessity  ;  that  these  have 
invariably  the  same  sense — which  of  course  he  defines  ;  that 
there  is  no  debatable  laud  between  ;  and  that  Arminians  have 
the  monopoly  of  freedom  while  Calvinists  are  fixed  bound 
to  fate.  This  is  about  the  upshot  of  his  argument.  Even 
when  a  Calvinist  says  that  by  "  necessity  "  he  means  only  "  cer- 
tainty," Dr.  Whedon  retorts  that  by  "  certainty  "  he  must  mean 
only  "  necessity."  He  cannot  get  quit  of  the  notions,  that  Cal- 
vin ism  is  the  same  as  pure  necessity,  and  that  predestination 
means  that  God  is  the  author  of  sin.  Nor  will  he  allow  to 
Edwards  and  his  school  the  benefit  of  their  own  nice  distinc- 
tions and  emphatic  disclaimers.    Taking  his  prominent  terms 


NEW   AND    STEANGE  WOEDS.  363 

in  an  isolated  way,  he  never  thinks  of  making  joints,  or  of  har- 
monizing antagonisms;  and  so  he  finds  it  hard  to  understand 
such  processes  in  other  minds.  More  than  half  of  his  volume 
is  devoted  to  a  perversion  and  attempted  refutation  of  the 
"  necessarian  arguments,"  especially  those  of  the  elder  Ed- 
wai'ds.  For  each  new  advocate  of  Arminianism  must  still 
storm  that  citadel — though  it  has  been  so  often  demolished. 
But  every  fresh  "freedomist"  is  dissatisfied  with  the  work  of 
his  predecessors,  and  has  to  provide  himself  witli  new  weapons, 
that  is,  a  new  set  of  definitions,  which  have  not  yet  run  the 
gauntlet  of  the  Calvinistic  logic.  Our  new  knight  thinks  that 
"  self -determining  power  of  the  will "  is  an  infelicitous  expres- 
sion ;  that  "  libertj^  of  indifference  "  is  inapt ;  that  "  contin- 
gency of  volition  "  excites  misapprehensions  ;  that  "  power  to 
the  contrary,"  implies  what  it  should  not ;  and  comes  into  the 
contest,  armed  cap-a-pie,  in  a  complete  panoply  of  new  and 
strange  words,  phrases,  and  definitions,  which  bristle  defiance. 
An  author  has  an  undoubted  right  to  make  his  own  defini- 
tions ;  and  a  writer  of  authority  may  now  and  then  introduce  a 
new  and  needed  term,  which  will  be  welcomed  to  the  language. 
But  Dr.  AVhedon's  volume  is  fairly  disfigured  by  xerha  inso- 
lentia,  and  awkward,  not  to  say  barbarous,  phrases ;  *  such  as 
"  f  reedomism,"  "  volitionate,"  "  volitivity,"  "  motivity,"  "  in- 
tuity,"  ''  definiting,"  "  certained,"  "  mustness,"  "  transgresso- 
riness,"  "  resultant  cause,"  in  the  sense  of  the  cause  producing 
the  result;  "  free  to  alterities,"  "  eternal,  divine,  free  volitiv- 
ity,"  and  the  like.  Such  grotesque  novelties  and  freaks  of 
expression  add  nothing  either  to  the  purity  or  the  force  of 
style.  They  are  needless,  especially  in  the  case  of  an  author 
who  is  often  clear  and  concise  in  his  definitions  and  arguments, 
and  who  is  quite  able  to  express  his  definite  ideas  in  good  old 
English  undefiled.     They  obscure  the  thought  and  embarrass 

*  We  referred  to  a  few  of  these  in  the  July  number  of  our  Review,  which 
the  MetJwdist  Quarterly  for  October  comments  on  with  slight  courtesy,  and 
some  inaccuracy;  saying,  e.  g.,  "The  phrase  ' equilibria!  will'  does  not 
occur ;"  but  it  is  found  in  the  table  of  contents,  p.  7,  "  Indifference  is  equi 
librial  will. " 


36-i  WHEDON   ON    THE    WILL, 

the  attention.  To  read  this  work  intelligibly,  we  have  to  learn 
a  new  Arminianese  dialect,  which  in  a  condensed  fonn  run- 
neth somewhat  after  this  fashion  :  "  Freedom  is  the  power  of 
alternate  choice,  otherwise  called  pluripotential  causality ; 
while  necessity  is  unipotent  and  automatically  resultant  from 
inalternative  particular  causation ;  the  will,  as  an  uncaused 
cause,  is  necessarily  free  to  alterities  ;  its  volitivity  may  be 
from  pure  intuity  whatever  be  the  motivity;  in  a  true  equi- 
libria! or  equipollent  cause  there  cannot  be  any  mustness,  for 
no  one  can  really  volitionate  where  there  is  non-existence  of 
power  but  to  a  fixation." 

One  assumption  underlies  our  author's  reasonings,  which 
demands  a  nioment's  consideration ;  and  that  is,  that  Calvin- 
ism as  a  system  stands  or  falls  with  the  doctrine  of  "  philoso- 
phical necessity,"  as  expounded  by  Edwards;  as  if  that  meta- 
physical dogma  had  a  quasi  symbolical  authority.  This  is 
far  from  being  the  case.  The  essential  Calvinistic  tenet  is 
that  of  the  divine  purposes;  "philosophical  necessity"  is  but 
an  adjunct  of  the  system,  employed  to  elucidate  some  as^^ects 
and  relations  of  the  divine  decree.  It  has,  in  fact,  been  de- 
nied by  many,  who  have  still  held  to  the  general  Keformed 
theology  against  both  Lutherans  and  Arminians.  The  late 
Principal  Cunningham,  of  Edinburgh,  maintained  in  an 
elaborate  essay,  that  the  Westminster  Confession  neither  re- 
quires nor  forbids  the  holding  of  that  philosopheme.  And 
many  divines  of  our  own  country,  both  old  school  and  new 
school,  have,  on  different  grounds,  dissented  from  some  of  the 
phraseology  and  arguments  of  the  sage  of  Northampton. 
Since  he  wrote  there  have  been  great  changes  in  the  state  of 
the  question.  Edwards  himself  would  have  written  in  a  dif- 
ferent tone  against  the  evangelical  Arminianism  of  the  Metho- 
dist church  as  represented  by  Dr.  WIiedoi:i,  from  that  which 
he  assumed  towards  the  cold  and  rationalizing  Arminianism 
of  his  own  times,  which  denied  original  sin,  and  special  grace. 
Had  he  been  opposing  pantheism  he  would  unquestionably 
have  modified  some  of  his  positions  and  illustrations.  Few 
persons  now-a-days  would   accept  all   his  definitions  as  final. 


CAIJSA    DEI    COXTKA    PELAGirM.  365 

He  does  not  carefull}^  distingnish  between  the  different  usages 
of  the  word  '  cause ; '  he  seems  to  limit  freedom  too  exclu- 
sively to  executive  volition;  at  times  he  implies  that  the 
whole  causal  power,  producing  volition,  resides  in  the  motives  ; 
his  conception  of  causation  (in  conformity  with  the  philoso- 
phy of  his  day)  is  derived  from  the  sphere  of  mechanics 
rather  than  from  that  of  living  or  spontaneous  forces ;  and 
he  is  so  in  earnest  in  arguing  against  tlie  self-determhiino- 
power  of  the  will  as  to  neglect  that  element  of  self-determi- 
nation which  is  undoubtedly  found  in  every  personal  act. 
But  still  a  critic,  who  can  see  no  essential  difference  between 
'' D'llolbachian  atheism  and  Edwardean  Calvinism;"  who 
says  that  the  system  of  Edwards  is  "  accordant  with  the  worst 
forms  of  Universalism  and  Parkerism  in  our  own  countr}';" 
and  who  cannot  even  master  his  distinctions  between  natural 
ability  and  moral  inabilitj^,  is  but  ill  prepared  to  do  justice 
to  a  work,  which  has  received  the  homage  of  hiffh  euloo-v 
and  sharp  assault  from  many  of  the  best  minds  of  the  last 
liundred  years.  With  all  its  minor  drawbacks,  the  system 
which.  Edwards  espoused  is  still,  in  its  essential  features  and 
necessary  connections  and  relations,  what  the  great  Brad- 
wardine  of  old  called  it,  in  the  title  of  his  famous  book,  the 
Causa  Dei  contra  Pelagium.  For  Arminianism  logically 
demands  Pelagianism,  It  is  only,  as  we  shall  see,  by  a  for- 
tunate inconsistency,  or  rather  by  a  complete  disregard  of  his 
theory  of  freedom,  that  Dr.  Wliedon  is  able  to  maintain  his 
orthodoxy  when  he  comes  to  the  main  problems  of  the  theo- 
dicy. Vaunting  his  notion  of  freedom,  even  in  the  title  of  his 
work,  as  the  only  "  basis  of  human  responsibility  and  a  divine 
government,"  he  is  forced  to  ignore  it,  when  he  encounters 
the  knotty  questions  about  the  divine  prescience,  the  guilt  of 
original  sin,  and  the  vindication  of  the  divine  justice  in  view 
of  sin;  and  to  put  the  whole  stress  of  his  solutions  on  an 
entirely  different  basis.  Freedom  is  supplemented  by  a 
"gracious  ability,"  and  justice  itself,  it  is  argued,  demands 
the  system  of  redemption.  And  so  this  book,  just  because  it 
is  sharp  and  streimo'is,  illustrates  more  fully,  peihaps,  than 


366  WHEDON    ON    THE    WILL. 

aiij  single  product  of  this  school,  the  inevitable  tendencies 
and  inconsistencies  inherent  in  the  Arminian  system,  which 
stands,  logically  and  theologicall}^,  between  Calvinism  and 
Pelagianism,  having  some  of  the  main  difficulties  of  both, 
without  the  (Consistency  of  either. 

Dr.  Whedon's  work  is  divided  into  three  Parts.  Part 
First  is  entitled  The  Issue  Stated :  Part  Second  considers 
the  Necessitarian  Argument:  Part  Third  is  devoted  to  the 
Positive  Argument  for  the  writer's  own  theory.  This 
arrangement  involves  the  necessity  of  frequent  repetitions, 
and  the  inconvenience  of  refuting  the  "necessarian"  on  the 
ground  of  the  writer's  theory  before  that  has  been  fully 
established.  But  the  argument  after  all  hinges  on  the  defi- 
nitions of  terms  and  the  correct  statement  of  the  issue.  And 
if  an  author  in  his  definitions  assumes  the  point  in  debate,  or 
juisstates  the  ground  of  those  whom  he  opposes,  the  apparent 
victory  may  be  both  easy  and  unprofitable. 

What  is  the  Will?  Edwards  says  it  "is  the  power  to 
choose."  Dr.  Whedon,  replies  "  clioice  is  a  word  as  obscure 
as  will."  But  choice  certainly  indicates  the  chief  mode  of 
the  will's  action,  and  is  less  "  obscure  "  than  Will,  since  it  is 
directly  known  as  an  act  in  consciousness.  His  own  defini- 
tion is  that  "  Will  is  the  power  of  the  soul  by  which  it  is  the 
conscious  author  of  an  intellectual  act."  But  are  not  "  con- 
scious author  "  and  "  an  intentional  act "  quite  as  "  obscure  " 
as  choice  ?  Can  there  not  be  an  unconscious  act  of  the  Will  ? 
What  room  is  left  on  the  basis  of  this  definition  for  makino- 
a  distinction  between  the  immanent  preferences  and  the  exe- 
cutive acts  of  the  Will?  Is  the  will  all  act?  Has  it  no  per- 
manent states?  This  definition  also  neglects  the  essential 
element  of  "'  choice,"  which  is,  however,  brought  in  after- 
wards when  our  author  says  (p.  18)  that  he  always  "uses 
volition  and  choice  interchangeably."  Choice,  he  adds,  is 
"  a  volition  in  view  of  some  perceived  preferability  "  in  the 
object.  His  peculiar  usage  of  terms  now  begins  to  appear. 
"Yolitions  are  neither  voluntary  nor  involuntary,  but  voli- 
tional ; "  "a  voluntary  volition  is  impossible."     That  is,  he 


-WHAT    IS    FREEDOM    OF    THE    "WILL?  367 

calls  the  direct  act  of  the  will  "  volitional^'  and  "  the  conse- 
quent act  of  the  body  or  mind  voluntary^  But  this  is  arbi- 
trary, and  contrary  to  the  best  usage  and  the  common 
sense  of  the  English  tongue.  To  say  that  volitions  are  not 
voluntary,  and  that  voluntary  acts  are  not  acts  of  the  will,  is 
to  confuse  the  established  meaning  of  words,  and  multiply 
vain  distinctions. 

In  what  does  the  Freedom  of  the  Will  consist?  In  all 
definitions  of  freedom  there  is  a  certain  inadequacy  in  lan- 
guage to  reproduce  the  precise  fact  of  consciousness.  The 
terms  ought  to  be  perpetually  interpreted,  not  by  looking  at 
them  logically,  but  by  reading  them  psychologically.  Free- 
dom is  born  and  lives  in  consciousness.  It  is  knoM-n  only  in 
and  with  choice  or  preference.  External  freedom  is  the 
power  or  opportunity  of  doing  as  one  pleases.  Internal  free- 
dom is  found  both  in  the  capacity  and  in  the  exercise  of 
choice ;  it  is  in  and  of  the  will,  because  the  will  can  and  does 
choose.  The  will,  in  the  act  of  choice,  is  free,  not  only  from 
external  coercion  and  inward  necessity,  but  also  in  the  choice 
actually  made.  It  is  free  in  what  it  chooses,  as  well  as  in 
respect  to  what  it  does  not  choose.*  There  may  be  a  free 
choice  when  only  one  object  is  before  the  mind;  but,  as 
different  objects  or  motives  are  usually  presented,  the  choice 
of  one  involves  the  refusal  of  the  others,  as  also  the  possi- 
bility, so  far  as  the  natural  capacity  is  concerned,  of  takino- 
another  instead,  the  other  conditions  of  volition  being  com- 
plied with.  But  the  cardinal  point  in  the  will's  freedom,  that 
on  which  responsibility  chiefly  hangs,  is  the  fact  that  the  per- 
son is  consciously  free  in  the  choice  actually  made. 

And  this  is  the  point  which  Dr.  Whedon  and  other  Armi- 
nians  strangely  overlook,  in  their  anxiety  to  vindicate  a  free- 

*  "  Every  free  act  is  done  in  a  state  of  freedom,  not  after  such  a  state. 
.  .  .  It  will  not  suffice  that  the  act  immediately  follows  a  state  of 
Liberty  ;  but  Liberty  must  yet  continue  and  coexist  with  the  act,  the  soul 
remaining  in  possession  of  Liberty."  Edwards,  p.  42.  Dr.  Whedon,  p. 
187-8,  comments  on  this,  but  fails  to  invalidate  it.  Our  references  to  Ed- 
wards are  to  the  second  volume  of  the  New  York  edition  of  his  works. 


363  WHEDOX    ON    THE   WILL. 

doni,  wJiicli  is  abstract  and  illiisoiy,  a  freedom  which  is  not, 
and  cannot  be,  realized  in  any  act  of  the  mind,  but  which  re- 
mains a  perpetual  negation.  He  says  that  freedom  is  "  exemp- 
tion." But  this  is  a  narrow  and  partial  view  of  it.  There 
must,  he  insists,  be  freedom  "  to  the  act,"  that  is,  no  impedi- 
ment; and  freedom  '■\fro7n  the  act,"  that  is,  another  act 
may  be  j)ut  forth  "  instead  ;  "  but  freedom  in  the  act  he  does 
not  recognize.  In  his  usage,  as  we  have  already  seen,  a 
"  voluntary  act  "  is  not  free  (not  "  volitional  "),  The  freedom 
all  went  before  the  "  voluntary  act,"  and  expired  in  giving 
birth  to  it,  so  that  the  voluntary  act  is  in  fact  necessary  and 
not  free;  it  is  the  effect  of  the  will  as  a  cause,  and  "nothing 
that  is  caused  can  be  free."  Thus  his  whole  definition  of 
freedom  reads:  "an  unrestricted  power  to  put  forth  in  the 
same  unchanged  circumstances  a  different  volition  insteacV^  of 
the  one  "  in  the  agent's  contemplation."  This  definition  of 
fi-eedom  has  chief  respect  to  a  volition  not  pnt  forth.  And 
this,  we  say,  is  a  negative  idea  of  freedom.  It  allows  no 
place  for  the  vital  distinction  between  formal  and  real 
freedom. 

Freedom,  as  thus  defined,  consists  in,  is  identified  with,  the 
"  unrestricted  power  "  of  "  putting  forth  a  different  volition." 
And  this  power  is  not  merely  the  "  natural  ability  "  conceded 
by  the  school  of  Edwards,  but  something  radically  diffei-ent. 
It  is,  in  Dr.  Whedon's  view,  a  creative  energy.  Arminianism, 
driven  by  force  of  logic  from  its  old  phases  of  "  a  self- 
determining  power  of  the  will,"  "  liberty  of  indifference," 
and  the  like,  is  coming  to  represent  the  will's  action  as  that 
of  pure  causality  in  the  form  of  a  creative  act.  "  Every  free 
agent,"  says  our  author  *  (p.  42)  "  is  thus  an  original  creator, 
even  out  of  nothing."  The  will  is  an  "uncaused  cause,"  and 
it  "  creates,  brings  into  existence,  shapes  and  limits,  and  in  all 
these  senses  necessitates  and  governs  its  volitions."  It  is  a 
kind  of  cause  "different  from  all  others,"  in  this  respect — that 

*  The  same  view  is  indicated  in  the  title  of  Mr.  Hazard's  recent  work  • 
"Every  Being  that  Wills,  a  C/eative  First  Cause." 


IS    TIIEKE   A  "  PLURIPOTENTIAL   POWER  "    IN    THE    WILL?     3G9 

all  others  are  "  nil i potent,"  while  the  will  is  said  to  be  "  plu- 
ripotent."  A  natural  cause,  under  given  circumstances,  can 
act  only  in  one  direction  ;  it  is  unipotent."  This  is  neces- 
sity, viz.,  "  the  impossibility  of  the  opposite."  But  the  will 
is  "  a  pluripotent  or  alternative  cause,"  and  is  as  capable  of 
acting  in  opposite  directions,  as  a  "  unipotent  cause  "  is  of 
acting  in  one  direction.  "Whatever  may  be  the  feelings, 
motives,  or  state  of  the  mind,  the  will  is  equally  adequate  to 
tlie  opposite.  It  can  act  against  all  possible  counter  motives, 
and  by  its  action  even  transform  the  weaker  into  the  stronger 
motive.  And  such  a  causal  capacity  is  said  to  be  essential  to 
freedom  and  responsibility. 

That  man  in  willing  is  a  proper,  efficient  cause  of  his  own 
acts,  we  do  not  contest ;  nor  yet,  that  motives  are  the  occa- 
sional and  final,  and  not  the  efficient  causes  of  volition.  The 
direct  efficiency  is  in  the  man  and  not  in  the  motives.  And 
when  man  chooses  in  one  way  there  is  no  natural  impossibility, 
but  rather  a  natural  possibility,  of  a  different  choice.  lie 
weighs,  deliberates,  decides  ;  and  he  can  decide  for  one  or  the 
other  as  seems  to  him  best.  He  has  all  the  natural  and  moral 
capacities  and  powers,  which  qualify  him  to  choose  between 
different  ol;)jects  or  ends.  And  he  chooses  as  he  does,  not  be- 
because  he  must,  not  because  he  cannot  do  otherwise,  but  be- 
cause he  sees  no  sufficient  reason  for,  or  has  no  hearty  pleasure 
in,  doing  otherwise.  And  all  this  is  entirely  different  from 
any  conceivable  natural  necessity,  or  "impossibility  of  the 
opposite."  But  Dr.  Wliedon  is  not  content  with  this  ;  he  will 
not  stop  at  the  end.  He  hypostatizcs  in  the  will  a  causal 
energy,  a  creative  capacity,  a  "  pluripotential  power,"  which 
distinguishes  it  from  all  other  kinds  of  causation.  But  this 
seems  to  be  an  unreal  abstraction. 

Not  to  anticipate  criticisms,  that  must  be  reserved  for  other 
points,  we  do  not  see  that  this  elaborate  discrimiiuxtion  be- 
tween "  pluripotent  "  and  •'  unipotent"  cause,  solves  any  real 
difficulty,  or  gives  any  distinct  idea.  It  is  an  artificial  way 
of  stating  an  illusory  distinction.  In  one  sense  all  forces  are 
"  pluripotent,"  as  they  may  act,  or  be  made  to  act,  in  a  variety 


370  WHEDON    ON    THE    WILL. 

of  directions.  The  forces  of  the  organic  world  have  a  greater 
variety  than  tliose  of  the  inorganic  ;  animals  are  more  "  pluri- 
potential  "  than  vegetables,  and  men  than  animals.  And  man 
has  the  capacity  of  choosing  among  and  between  a  fertile  va- 
rietj'  of  objects  or  ends,  to  which  he  is  correlated  by  the  com- 
plexity of  his  endowments ;  especially  of  deciding  between 
the  behests  of  reason  and  conscience,  and  the  cravings  of 
natural  desire.  But  this  capacity  of  choice  is  in  no  sense  a 
double  power;  it  is  in  its  very  nature  one  and  simple.  There 
is,  and  can  be,  only  one  undivided  energy  of  choice,  in  how- 
ever many  directions  it  may  turn.  Even  supposing  that 
another  end  were  chosen  instead  of  the  one  that  seems  most 
desirable,  it  is  the  same  capacity  that  makes  the  election. 
The  alleged  distinction  indicates  no  real  difference.  And  as  to 
its  being  in  any  proper  sense  a  "  creative"  energy,  producing 
an  opposite  volition  of  its  own  motion,  the  whole  idea  is 
simply  preposterous.  No  such  thing  was  ever  done.  It  is  a 
vain  imagination.  To  suppose  it  realized  by  man  is  to  annul 
the  distinction  between  divine  and  lunnan  power. 

So  that,  upon  the  whole,  this  invention  of  a  new  kind  of 
cause  to  suit  the  exigencies  of  the  Arminian  theory  of  free- 
dom is  needless  and  unprofitable.  It  is  an  attempt  to  state 
what  eludes  statement.  This  eccentric  and  pretentious  "  plu- 
ripotential  cause,"  though  rather  formidable  at  first  sight, 
turns  out  in  fact  to  be  only  our  old  Arminian  acquaintance, 
"  the  self-determining  power  of  the  will,"  brought  out  for  a 
fresh  airing,  with  a  new  alias,  having  been  so  thoi-oughly  ex- 
posed under  his  former  names,  that  he  finds  it  inexpedient  to 
appear  in  them  any  longer.  But  his  new  and  high-sounding 
appellative  (reminding  one  of  the  pompous  titles  given  to 
petty  German  potentates),  has  not  changed  his  nature.  lie 
is  still  as  suj)ple.  Protean,  and  disputatious  as  ever,  represent- 
ing the  ghost  of  an  idea,  and  ever  striving  to  elude  the  in- 
finite series,  into  which  Edwards  banished  him,  by  hiding  in 
that  intermediate  state  between  thought  and  fancy  in  which 
he  was  begotten  of  old. 

The  general  conditions  "  of  volitional  action  "  are  reduced 


"  THE    CKUCI^y;.    QUESTION."  371 

by  Dr.  Wheclon  to  these  three:  "an  Ohject  or  direction  of 
action,  Mental  Comprehension,  and  Motive."  "  Motive  is 
a  usual  antecedent  of  action,"  but  its  "  strict  universality  "  is 
doubted  (pp.  71,  139).  Then  (p.  87)  it  is  formally  asserted 
that  the  maxim,  "like  causes  ever  and  always  produce  like 
effects,"  is  "  inapplicable  in  the  volitional  sphere."  And  so 
we  are  prepared  for"  the  crucial  question^''  viz. :  the  Cause  of 
Particular  Yolitions.  The  whole  theory  of  the  book  hinges 
here  ;  it  stands  or  falls  with  the  author's  view  of  tlie  will  as 
a  causal  power. 

"  What  causes  (determines)  the  will  to  put  forth  the  par- 
ticular volition  and  no  other?"  The  question  is  not,  how  it 
comes  to  act  at  all,  but  "  Why  it  exerts  such  an  act  and  not 
another?  "  Edwards  concedes  that  the  activity  of  the  nature 
of  the' soul  enables  it  to  be  the  cause  of  effects,  but  says 
"  that  alone  is  not  the  cause  why  its  action  is  thus  and  thus 
limited,  directed  and  determined,"  as  is  the  case  in  every  par- 
ticular volition  ;  and  that,  therefore,  besides  *  the  general  ca- 
pacity of  election,  there  must  be  particular  reasons  or  motives 
to  account  for  particular  volitions.  But  Dr.  Whedon  says,  in 
italics,  "  an  alternative ])ower  or  cause  is  an  alternative  thing, 
and  accounts  for  the  coming  into  existence  of  either  one  of 
several  effects  "  (p.  90).  And  he  adds,  that  "  so  and  at  once 
and  for  all,  the  crucial  question  is  answeredP  When  pressed 
with  the  inquiry.  What  causes  the  wuU  to  produce  any  par- 
ticular effect  ?  he  replies,  in  capitals  and  italics,  "  Nothing 
whatever^  And  this  for  the  reason,  that  '■^  every  coinplete 
cause  produces  its  effect  uncausedly^''  (p.  92).  Such  is  the 
theory,  and  upon  it  we  join  issue. 

(1)  The  will,  in  and  of  itself,  is  not  a  complete  or  adequate 
cause  of  any  particular  volition  or  effect.  This  seems  to  be 
sometimes  conceded  by  Dr.  Whedon,  when  he  speaks  of  the 

*  Dr.  Whedon,  commenting  on  these  statements,  says  that  Edwards  here 
teaches  that  motive  is  ' '  the  absohite  cause  "  of  the  volition  ;  but  when 
Edwards  says  that  active  nature  "  alone  "  is  not  the  cause  of  the  particular 
volitions,  he  rather  implies  that  it,  as  well  as  the  motive,  has  a  hand  in  the 
matter. 


372  WIIEDON    ON   THE    WILL. 

will  "  in  its  proper  conditions,''^  as  "  an  adequate  cause,"  and 
says  that  "  a  general  power  is  not  adequate  to  the  effect,"  and 
"  that  another  part  of  the  power  "  is  to  be  supplied.  But  if 
these  conditions  furnish  a  part  of  the  power,  the  will  is  not 
in  itself  a  complete  cause.  The  will  may  be  called  the  effi- 
cient cause,  but  this  gives  only  the  general  possibility  of 
action,  until  the  occasional  and  final  causes  are  added,  and 
these  are  not  of  the  will,  but  constitute  the  motives  or  reasons 
of  the  act.  An  efficient  cause  and  an  adequate  cause  are  by 
no  means  identical.  A  volition  is  no  more  accounted  for  by 
its  efficient  cause  than  would  be  the  building  of  a  house  by 
the  general  activity  of  the  workmen,  without  brick  or  mortar. 
To  account  for  any  particular  volition,  thei-e  nmst  be  that  in 
the  cause  corresponding  with  the  particularity  in  the  effect. 
The  principle  of  life  in  a  seed  must  contain  a  formative  ele- 
ment as  well  as  a  vital  force,  in  order  to  be  able  to  produce 
any  particular  kind  of  plant.  No  definite  act  can  be  con- 
structed in  thought  without  relation  to  some  end  or  object. 
No  event  or  phenomenon  can  be  produced  by  a  bare,  general 
efficiency.  Else,  from  matter,  force,  and  motion,  according 
to  Herbert  Spencer's  revival  of  the  old,  godless  speculations, 
might  be  evolved  the  universe  of  particular  existences. 

It  seems  to  be  supposed,  that,  because  the  idea  of  cause  is 
simple,  all  effects  can  be  accounted  for  by  simple  power 
alone.  Cause  is  indeed  simple  in  idea,  but  when  we  come  to 
its  actings,  it  is,  as  Plato  says  of  the  beautiful,  "  very  difficult." 
The  relation  of  cause  and  effect  is  as  complex  as  the  frame  of 
the  nniverse.  The  most  elaborate  of  the  Aristotelian  dis- 
tinctions is  that  between  power  in  possibility  and  power  in 
act.  Man  {in  potentia)  may  be  viewed  as  a  possible  cause  of 
either  of  several  effects  ;  but  to  pass  from  power  to  action 
requires  other  conditions  or  causes,  which  help  to  constitute 
the  effect. 

(2)  And  if  the  will,  in  itself,  is  not  a  complete  and  adequate 
cause  of  any  one  particular  effect,  then  an  "alternative 
power  or  cause,"  granting  its  existence,  can  no  more  account 
"  for  the  comino;  into  existence  of  either  one  of  several  effects." 


VIRTUE   OF    AN    "  ALTEIINATIVE    CAUSE."  373 

The  same  reasons  in  part  apply  here  as  above.  If  no  one 
effect  can  thus  be  accounted  for,  then  no  other  can  be.  Which- 
ever alternative  is  taken,  there  is  still  a  particular  determina- 
tion which  cannot  be  explained  by  any  mere  general  efficiency. 
Dr.  Whedon  seems  to  imagine  that  there  is  a  special  virtue  in 
an  "  alternative  cause,"  somehow  making  it  adequate  of  itself 
to  particular,  and  even  "alternative"  particular  volitions. 
The  difficulty  however  is  not  lessened,  but  repeated.  Neither 
can  be  accounted  for,  and  so  either  cannot  be.  The  impossi- 
bility is  just  reduplicated.  And  such  "  alternativity,"  under 
the  circumstances,  must  be  cruelly  embarrassing.  It  is  bad 
enough  to  be  obliged  to  put  forth  any  one  volition  without 
any  particular  reason  ;  but  to  decide  between  two  opposite 
volitions,  without  any  particular  reason  for  either,  is  worse 
than  the  case  of  the  traditional  jackass  between  the  two  bun- 
dles of  hay  ;  for  the  jackass  had  at  least  the  satisfaction  of 
having  each  of  its  eyes  filled  with  the  vision  of  an  equal 
good  ;  and  though  it  doubtless  died  between  the  two,  yet,  if 
it  had  chosen  either,  for  the  particular  election  there  would 
have  been  a  special  inducement. 

There  is  still  subtler  difficulty  about  this  complete  power- 
to-either.  The  will  is  equipoised,  in  that  it  is  an  equally 
complete  or  adequate  cause  of  either.  It  takes  one:  then 
there  was  a  complete  and  adequate  cause  for  the  other,  which 
cause,  though  complete  and  adecpiate,  resulted  in  no  effect.  Dr. 
Whedon  notices  the  matter  (p.  94),  and  says  in  reply,  "  par- 
ticularity coming  into  existence  is  itself  exclusive  of  all 
counter."  Yery  true,  if  it  does  come  into  existence.  But 
why  does  this  "  particularity  "  come  into  existence,  rather 
than  the  other,  since  there  was  a  complete  and  adequate  cause 
for  either  ?  We  do  not  see  but  that  the  best  way  of  settling 
the  difficulty  would  be  let  both  come  into  existence.  That 
would  give  us  the  logical  absurdity  full  blown  in  act  and  fact. 
(3)  the  question  is :  "  What  causes  the  will  to  produce  any 
particular  effect  ?  "  Dr.  Whedon  replies :  "  Nothing  what- 
ever. For  complete  cause  needs  nothing  to  cause  it  to  pro- 
duce its  normal  effects."     But  the  reason  here  assigned  gives 


374  WHEDON    ON    THE   WILL. 

the  slip  to  the  question.  It  is  true,  if  we  have  an  adequate 
cause  (or  causes)  we  do  not  need  anything  more  ;  but  the 
question  happens  to  be,  Whether  the  will,  as  an  alternative 
cause,  is  thus  adequate  even  to  opposite  volitions  ;  and  Dr. 
Whedon's  answer  assumes  this  point  as  settled.  By  saying 
that  "  nothing  whatever  "  causes  it  to  produce  any  jDarticular 
act,  he  leaves  us"  only  the  will's  blind  energy  as  the  cause. 
And  as  these  "  particular  effects  "  cover  all  the  sphere  of  the 
will's  action,  we  are  landed  in  "  nothing  whatever,"  as  the 
root  and  ground  of  moral  agency.  "What  causes  a  man  to  be 
honest,  rather  than  to  steal  ?  "  Nothing  whatever."  What 
caused  Adam  to  fall  rather  than  to  remain  holy  ?  "  Nothing 
whatever."  What  causes  a  sinner  to  repent  rather  than 
to  abide  in  sin  ?  "  Nothing  whatever."  And  so  of  all  other 
possible  alternatives.  Such  a  will  is,  to  borrow  one  of  the 
phrases  of  the  book,  "  a  blind,  insensate,  projectile  will." 

(4)  Our  author  asserts  (p.  87)  that  "  in  the  volitional  sphei-e  " 
the  maxim  that  "  like  causes  ever  and  always  produce  like 
effects,"  is  "  inapplicable."  This  law,  more  carefully  stated, 
viz. :  that  the  same  causes  in  the  same  oircumstances jproduoe 
the  same  effects^  is  at  the  basis  of  the  whole  inductive  process. 
Without  it,  all  uniformity  is  impossible.  It  is  not  a  result  of 
induction,  but  its  ground  ;  it  is  a  universal  rational  principle, 
one  mode  of  stating  the  law  of  causality.  It  is  so  universal, 
that  it  is  not  violated  even  in  a  miracle.  Dr.  Whedon  says, 
it  applies  only  to  nature.  But  how  does  he  know  that  ?  By 
assuming  that  it  does  not  apply  to  the  will,  he  makes  tiie 
\vill's  action  a  point  blank  contradiction  to  all  law  and  all 
certainty.     It  is  not  even  a  miracle  ;  it  is  a  caprice. 

(5)  And  yet  he  claims  that  this  theory  is  in  harmony  with 
the  "  law  of  causality."  The  law  of  causality  is,  that _/(?/■  every 
event  or  change  of  existence  there  must  be  a  caiise.  His  theory, 
he  urges,  does  not  violate  this  law,  because  for  every  specific 
volition  he  assigns  an  adequate  cause,  that  is,  an  act  of  the 
will.  This  is  good  as  far  as  it  goes.  But  how  about  the  act 
of  the  will  itself?  What  is  the  cause  of  that  act?  Wliy, 
nothing  whatever  /  it  is  uncaused.    Of  course,  then,  it  is  an  act 


KOTIIING    UNCAUSED    EXCEPTING   THE   FIEST   CAUSE.  375 

without  a  cause  ;  aud  of  course,  it  does  violate  the  law  of  caus- 
ality, which  avers,  that  every  eveut  or  act  must  have  a  cause. 
We  must  give  up  the  law  of  causality,  or  give  up  this  theory 
of  the  will.     It  is  absurd  to  say,  that  anything  in  the  universe 
can  be  uncaused  excepting  the  Great  First  Cause.      All  that 
exists  in  time  and  space  must  be  under  the  law  of  cause  and 
effect ;  or  else  we  cannot  prove  that  there  is  a  Creator.      No 
act  can  be  uncaused  without  being  absolute  ;  and  no  act  can 
be  absolute  and  remain  human.     Or  rather,  such  an  act  is 
neither  human  nor  divine;  for  God  in  all  his  particular  de- 
terminations must  act  in  accordance  with  the  highest  and  best 
of   reasons;  his   being   is   uncaused,   but   his   purposes   are 
grounded  in  truth  and  holiness.     Such  a  power,    begetting 
an  opposite  volition  of  its  own  spontaneity,  is  incogitable  ;  a 
wanton,  wilful  imagination  ;    a  sheer  anomaly. 

Profound  thinkers,  like  Kant,  Schelling,  and  Julius  Miiller, 
who  suppose  that  man's  original  sin  can  be  accounted  for  only 
on  the  assumption  of  preexistence,  also  hold  that  the  sin  was 
eno-endered  in  a  "  timeless  "  condition  ;  and  this,  in  part,  so  as 
not  to  interfere  with  the  law  of  cause  and  effect  which  rules 
in  all  that  exists  under  the  limitation  of  time  and  space.  But 
the  theory  of  our  author  leaves  the  human  will,  even  in  its 
temporal  limitations  and  conditions,  in  its  every  act,  face  to 
face  with  the  abyss  of  nothingness.  It  breaks  np  the  con- 
tinuity of   that   law,  on  which  the  whole  created  universe 

depends. 

Nor  does  it  avail,  in  refuting  objections,  to  say  witii  our 
author  (p.  105)  that  "  the  difficulties  on  both  sides  are  identi- 
cal," since  the  nature  of  cause  is  "a  mystery."  For  in  the 
one  case  the  adequate  cause  is  assignable  ;  in  the  other,  it  is 
not  In  the  latter  case,  "  nothing  whatever  "  is  said  to  be 
the  cause  of  the  act ;  in  the  former,  a  sufficient  reason  for  the 
act  is  recognized.  One  is  a  mysterious  something,  the  other 
is  a  mysterious  nothing.*  

"^Edwards  discusses  at  several  points  this  question  of  an  uncaused  cause. 
Thus  Part  3  Sec.  4,  is  on  the  question,  whether  Volition  can  arise  without 
a  cause   through  the  Activity  of  the  nature  of  the  Soul.     He  says  "  the 


376  WHEDON   ON    THE    WILL. 

(6)  There  is  a  wide  difference  between  a  logical  possibility 
and  a  real  possibility.  Granting  even  the  logical  possibility 
of  stating  and  conceiving  such  an  "  alternative  power,"  sncli 
an  "  uncaused  cause,"  it  would  still  be  a  mere  abstraction  ; 
and  the  confirmation  of  consciousness  and  experience  would 
be  necessary  to  establish  its  real  possibility,  to  say  nothing  of 
its  reality.  Because  an  absolute  causative  energy  is  con- 
ceivable, it  does  not  follow  that  it  exists  in  us.  Power  to  the 
contrary  maybe  stated  and  conceived;  but  is  it  ever  real- 
ized? If  it  is  exercised  it  is  annulled;  and  so  its  exercise  is 
really  inconceivable. 

And  is  there  not,  after  all,  an  essential  illusion  involved  in 
ascribing  such  attributes  and  qualities  to  the  Will,  as  if  it 
were  isolated,  and  distinct  from  the  man  1  An  absolute  and 
uncaused  efficiency  of  the  Will,  means  an  absolute  and  un 
caused  efficiency  of  the  man.  For  the  will  is  only  the  person 
choosing,  acting.  Into  its  choices  there  must  perforce  enter, 
not  merely  the  form  of  personal  agency,  but  also  its  vital  sub- 
stance. No  choice  is  or  can  be  abstract— hovering,  as  it  were, 
in  equilibrium  above  our  souls.  All  in  us  that  prompts  to 
action,  desire,  feeling,  conscience,  the  soul's  bent,  are  concen- 
trated and  expressed  in  the  will's  energy.  It  cannot  be  other- 
wise, unless  we  can  separate  the  person  from  his  feelings  and 
affections.  These  can  no  more  be  kept  out  of  the  will  than 
they  can  be  kept  out  of  the   man.     And   any  scheme  of  the 

activity  of  the  soul  may  enable  it  to  be  the  cause  of  effects,  but  it  does  not 
at  all  enable  or  help  it  to  be  the  subject  of  effects  which  have  no  cause."  In 
the  previous  section  he  examines  the  point,  whether  "the  free  acts  of  the 
will  are  existences  of  an  exceeding  different  nature  from  other  things,  l)y 
reason  of  which  they  may  come  into  existence  without  any  previous 
ground  or  reason  of  it,  though  other  things  cannot ;  "  and  he  argues  that 
this  involves  the  contradiction,  that  such  a  "particular  nature  of  existence 
is  a  thing  prior  to  existence,  and  so  a  thing  which  makes' way  for  existence, 
with  such  a  circumstance,  namely,  without  a  cause  or  reason  for  existence." 
And  he  further  shows  again.st  Mr.  Chubb  (p.  123)  that  this  Arminian  notion, 
that  the  acts  of  the  will  spring  "  from  nothing,  implies  necessity,  for  what 
the  mind  is  the  subject  of  without  the  determination  of  its  own  previous 
choice,  it  is  the  subject  of  necessarily,  as  to  any  hand  that  free-choice  has 
in  the  affair,"  etc. 


RELATION    OF    THE    WILL    TO    MOTIVES.  377 

will's  agency  wliicli  does  not  recognize  tiiis  must  be  iinreul 
and  abstract. 

And  so  we  may  conclude  that  the  crucial  question, "  What 
causes  the  Will  toj>rodicae  a^i^  jya/'i^iCJwZa/'  efect,''^  has  not  been 
"  at  once  and  for  all  answered  "  by  saying,  "  Nothing  wliat- 
every  If  that  be  the  only  answer,  then  say  nothing  whatever 
about  it. 

On  the  theory  that  "  nothing  determines  the  "Will,"  it  is,  of 
course,  verbally  easy  to  evade  the  Infinite  Series,  to  which 
Edwards  reduced  the  Arminiau  self-determining  power. 
There  is  no  series,  because  in  every  act  of  choice  we  start 
with  nothing.  Dr.  Wliedon  says  "  the  tail  of  tlie  series  is  cut 
off  ;  "  and  he  might  have  added,  that  he  cut  it  off  right  behind 
the  ears ;  for  the  head  is  gone  as  well  as  the  tail.  His  sup- 
posed act  of  the  will  is  an  .absolute  beginning,  an  uncaused 
cause,  projected  of  its  own  accord  out  of  nothing.  The  will 
is  determined  by  nothing ;  that  answers  all  difficulties,  except 
those  contained  in  itself. 

What  is  the  Relation  of  the  Will  to  Motives?  Motive, 
comprehensively  considered,  is  whatever  leads  or  induces  the 
mind  to  act.  In  the  last  analysis  all  motives  are  internal. 
The  strongest  motive  is  identical  with  the  bent  of  the  mind 
at  the  indivisible  instant  before  choice,  in  relation  to  the 
choice.  The  will,  as  a  capacity  for  choice,  is  a  form  without 
contents ;  it  is  a  blind  force,  which  receives  vision  and  direo- 
tion  only  from  the  reason,  the  feelings  or  the  conscience. 
Motives  are  not  the  efficient  cause  of  volitions.  They  f  urnisli 
the  material,  the  occasion,  and  the  end  or  object  of  the  action  ; 
and  are  absolutely  necessary  for  this.  The  will  furnishes  tlio 
efficiency,  and  the  form  of  choice.  But  the  form  is  to  be  filled 
with  contents  ere  volition  can  be  consummated.  As  soon, 
now,  as  it  is  agreed  that  motives  are  not  the  efficient  cause  of 
volition,  the  doctrine  that  the  will  chooses  according  to  the 
strongest  motive  (or  in  whatever  similar  phrase  it  may  be  ex- 
pressed), is  one  of  the  most  harmless  and  reasonable  positions 
that  can  be  taken  as  to  the  law  of  moi-al  agency.  Ko  phrase- 
ology about  it  may  be  free  from  all  ambiguity;  but  the  object 


378  WHEDON    ON    THE    WILL. 

is  to  state  a  general  law,  in  contrast  with  the  position,  that 
the  will  is  arbitrary,  merely  self-determined,  cut  loose  from 
reasons.  Choice  for  reasons  lies  between  caprice  and  fatalism  ; 
it  is  in  contrast  with  chance,  rather  than  cognate  with  neces- 
sity. 

The  question  here  is  not  as  to  an  "  impossibilit}'  of  the  oppo- 
site ; "  but  simply  as  to  a  matter  of  fact,  to  be  determined  by 
an  appeal  to  conscious  experience.  The  position  that  the 
will  is  as  the  greatest  apparent  good,  decides  notliing  as  to 
the  intrinsic  value  of  the  motives;  it  does  not  assert  that  any 
j^articular  class  or  classes  of  motives  ailways  control  volition  ; 
nor  does  it  even  affirm  that  the  mind,  at  the  moment  of  choice, 
is  conscious  of  the  fact,  that  the  motive  yielded  to  is  the 
stronger.  It  only  says,  that  in  reviewing  our  past  decisions, 
we  find,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  that  they  have  uniformly  been  in 
accordance  with  wdiat  at  the  instant  solicited  the  will  most 
strongly.  There  may  have  been  at  tlie  same  moment  the 
consciousness  of  the  possibility  of  a  different  choice;  but  that 
does  not  alter  the  fact  that  the  actual  choice  was,  on  the  whole, 
in  view  of  what,  for  want  of  a  better  phrase,  is  called  the 
greatest  apparent  good.  And  this  never  interferes,  but  rather 
harmonizes  with  the  sense  of  freedom  and  responsibility. 

But  the  object  of  the  Arminian,  in  consistency  with  his  as- 
sumption of  the  autonomy  of  the  will,  is  to  avoid  any  sucli 
general  statement.  Even  when  he  grants  that  the  will  always 
acts,  and  must  act,  in  view  of  motives,  he  tries  to  make  out 
that  it  sometimes  decides  for  the  weaker  against  the  stronger ; 
or  that  the  will  gives  its  strength  to  tlie  motives ;  or  that  tlie 
power  to  the  contrary  has  actually  been  exercised  in  some 
cases.  He  insists  uj^on  it,  that  if  the  will  always  cliooses  ac- 
cording to  the  stronger  inducement,  that  this  is  but  a  refined 
form  of  necessity.  Yet  he  must  needs  concede,  that  all  the 
instances  covered  b}^  his  seeming  cases,  are,  at  the  utmost, 
but  exceptions  to  tlie  general  law  or  fact.  Or  even  if  he  does 
not  grant  this,  he  will,  we  suppose,  be  willing  to  say,  that  he 
has  sometimes,  if  only  by  way  of  variety,  chosen  according  to 
the  greatest  apparent  good.     When   he  did  so,  was  it  either 


C.^J^^   MOTIVES    BE    COMPARED?  379 

disagreeal)le  or  fatalistic  j  did  it  upset  for  the  time  all  his  no- 
tions of  morality  and  responsibility  ?  If  it  works  well  in  some 
instances,  why  not  in  many  ?  why  not  in  all  ? 

Even  if  the  will  can,  or  does  choose  the  weaker  instead  of 
the  stronger  motive,  we  cannot  see  what  is  gained,  whether 
on  the  score  of  freedom,  or  of  responsibility,  or  of  the  moral- 
ity of  the  act,  or  in  the  way  of  defending  the  divine  govern- 
ment. Cei-tainly  nothing  on  the  score  of  freedom  ;  for  a  man 
is  no  more  free  in  yielding  to  a  weak  motive  than  to  a  strong 
one— but  rather  subject  to  the  chai-ge  of  caprice.  Nor  on  the 
score  of  responsibility  is  there  gain;  for  the  responsibility 
attaches  to  the  freedom.  Nor  is  the  morality  of  an  act 
heightened  when  it  is  done  without  sufficient  desire  or  love 
for  it.  And  as  to  the  divine  goveniment,  even  siipposino- 
that  God  foreknows  that  a  man,  under  the  circumstances  in 
which  he  is  placed,  will  choose  from  the  weaker  instead  of 
the  stronger  motive,  God  is  just  as  responsible,  and  neither 
more  nor  less  so,  if  he  sees. he  will  choose  from  the  weaker,  as 
if  he  foresees  he  will  choose  from  the  stronger  motive. 

It  is  said  that  motives  cannot  be  compared — that  certain 
classes  of  motives  are  incommensurable.  But  if  they  cannot 
be  compared  how  can  we  decide  among  or  between  them  ? 
However  different  they  may  be,  they  certainly  agree  in  the 
charactei-istic  of  appealing  to  the  will  as  reasons  or  induce- 
ments. The  difficulty  here  is  simply  that  of  finding  some 
connnon  and  unambiguous  term  which  will  express  just  this 
fact  and  no  other.  Cheap  criticisms  may  be  made  on  the 
ph]-ases  "sufficient  reason,"  "greatest  apparent  good,"  "what 
seems  most  desirable,"  and  the  like  ;  but  the  fact  still  remains, 
that  the  action  of  the  mind,  unless  it  be  contingent  or  capri- 
cious, can  be  reduced  to  some  such  general  scheme  or  law. 
When  we  come  to  the  last  point  which  separates  the  idea  of 
will  from  that  of  caprice,  it  is  that  the  former  acts  with 
reasons,  and  the  latter  without.  To  call  such  a  choice  "  fa- 
talism," is  to  allow  no  nn'ddle  term  between  fate  and  chance. 
Dr.  Whedon  endeavors  to  reverse  tlie  relation  of  will  and 
motives ;  and  he  does  this  on  inconsistent  grounds.     He  main- 


380  WHEDON    ON    THE    WILL. 

tains  that  we  must  not  only  have,  but  exercise  the  power  of 
contrary  choice ;  that  the  will  does  sometimes  choose  from 
the  weaker  motive ;  that  it  may  at  times  choose  without  a 
motive  (pp.  139,  190);  that  the  will  "projects  volition;"  and 
in  fine,  that  it  is  the  will  itself  which  gives  to  the  motive  its 
comparative  strength.  But  if  the  will  can,*  of  its  bare  spon- 
taneity, just  "project  a  volition,"  why  not  give  up  the 
whole  doctrine  of  motives  altogether;  it  would  vastly  sim- 
plify, if  it  did  not  annul,  psychology  and  ethics. 

His  main  point,  however,  is,  that  "  the  so-called  strength  of 
a  motive  is  the  comparative  prevalence  which  the  will  as- 
signs to  it  in  its  action."  Again  (p.  79),  "  the  last  dictate  of 
the  understanding  does  not  decide  the  will ;  "  but  "  the  dic- 
tate of  the  understanding  becomes  the  last  by  the  act  of  the 
will."  And  (p.  363),  "  the  will,  in  and  by  choosing,  brings 
the  particular  motive  on  account  of  which  it  acts,  into  the 
last  antecedency  to  its  choice."  All  this  strikes  us  as  more 
ingenious  than  thoughtful.  Why  does  the  will  decide  to 
make  a  given  reason  or  motive  the  last  ?  Not,  we  suppose, 
because  it  happens  just  then  to  be  in  view  of  the  mind,  for 
that  would  be  childish.  It  either  has  a  sufficient  reason  for 
stopping  the  series  of  motives,  or  it  is  wanton  wilfulness. 
Again,  "the  strength  of  a  motive"  is  said  to  be  "the  preva- 
lence the  will  assigns  to  it;"  but  this  is  preposterous;  for 
when  the  will  acts,  the  motive,  as  a  motive,  expires;  it  is  no 
longer  a  motive,  it  is  incoi-porated  in  a  volition  ;  and  we  can 
no  longer  talk  about  either  its  strength  or  weakness  as  a  mo- 
tive. The  discussion,  by  the  very  for(ie  and  sense  of  the 
terms,  is  limited  to  the  state  antecedent  to  choice ;  and  to 
slip  the  motive  out  of  that  state  into  a  new  mode  of  being, 
wliere  it  loses  its  identity  as  a  motive,  is  to  evade  the  ques- 
tion by  logical  legerdemain.  Yet  again,  the  act  of  choice 
cannot  change  the  character  or  force  of  the  inducement:  all 
that  choice  does  is  to  appropriate  it.  If  the  motive  was  the 
weaker  at  the  instant  of  appropriation,  the  appropriation 
does  not  make  it  stronger.  If  a  man  chooses  five  dollars  in- 
stead of  ten,  his  choice  does  not  make  the  five  mOre  than  ten. 


VOLITION    AND    THE    DOCTRINE    OF    PROBABILITIES.  381 

Once  more,  if  the  will  can  be  supposed  to  give,  by  its  elec- 
tion, a  greater  comparative  value  to  the  motive  than  it  had 
before,  this  must  be  on  account  of  some  peculiar  quality  or 
state  of  the  will,  additional  to  its  mere  power  of  choosing, 
which  quality  is  imparted  to  the  motive.  That  is,  the  will 
is  not  a  naked  power  of  choice,  but  has  a  moral  bias  or 
character.  But  this  would  be  inconsistent  with  Dr.  Whe- 
don's  whole  theory  of  the  nature  of  the  will.  A  will  that 
can  give  strength  and  character  to  a  motive,  is  a  will  that 
contains  perception  and  feeling,  as  well  as  power — that  is,  it 
is  the  man  himself,  and  not  merely  one  of  his  faculties. 

Our  author  further  illustrates  his  position  by  the  doctrine 
of  probabilities,  to  show  that  the  will  may  and  does  act  from 
the  weaker  motive  (p.  130).  "  The  chance  m^iy  be  improb- 
able, and  yet  prove  successful.  So  the  volition  calculably 
improbable,  may  become  the  actual."  But,  in  point  of  fact, 
in  the  so-called  contingencies  (as  in  dice),  about  external 
facts  or  events,  the  actual  result  is  mathematically  certain  to 
an  omniscient  eye.  The  contingency  is  found  only  in  our 
ignorance.  How,  then,  can  this  answer  the  purpose  of  show- 
ing that  strict  law  does  not  rule  in  the  sphere  of  the  will  ? 
If  the  analogy  is  meant,  however,  to  apply  only  so  far  as  the 
result  is  uncertain  to  us,  then  the  will  is  a  synonym  for  chance, 
and  the  point  of  comparison  must  be,  that  volition  is  hap- 
hazard, and  may  from  mere  chance  fall  on  the  lesser  prob- 
ability— which  undermines  all  rational  ideas  of  freedom  and 
responsibility. 

If  freedom  wanes  as  motives  increase  in  intensity  and  jier- 
manency  ;  if  "  a  law  of  invariability  in  choice  be  pure  neces- 
sity "  (pp.  38,  220) ;  then  God  is  less  free  than  man ;  and 
Christ  had  less  freedom  than  any  other  man  ;  and  the  sinner's 
guilt  decreases  as  his  sin  increases;  and  the  virtue  of  saints 
is  diminished  as  they  grow  in  grace  and  holiness.*  There 
remains  no  possibility  of  reconciling  freedom  with  law.  The 
great  fact  of  consciousness,  that  the  highest  moral  freedom 

*  Comp.  Edwards  on  Will,  pp.  113-4,  133-3. 


382  WHEDON    ON    THE    WILL. 

and  the  highest  moral  necessity  concur,  remains  forever  in- 
explicable. 

It  is  commonly  said  that  all  men  have  tliesame  mental  and 
moral  constitution  ;  but  we  have  sometimes  doubted  this  when 
reading  these  anomalous  Arminian  speculations  about  the  will 
and  freedom  and  responsibility.  Look  at  the  attributes  of 
that  contradictory  capacity,  which  they  call  a  Will,  and  judge 
if  it  be  essential  to  moral  agency  and  responsibility.  It 
brings  forth  all  its  acts  out  of  nothing  by  its  own  uncaused 
and  motiveless  efficiency ;  it  can  at  times  act  without  motive, 
and  even  without  emotion  or  feeling  (p.  44) ;  it  is  able  to 
make,  by  its  bare  j)0wer,  the  weaker  motive  strong,  and  the 
stronger  motive  weak ;  it  is  not  and  cannot  be  free,  unless  it 
sometimes  exercises  a  power  to  the  contrary,  without  any 
sufficient  inducement ;  it  is  under  the  law  of  natural  necessity 
if  it  alwa^'s  chooses  what  on  the  whole  seems  most  desirable ; 
while  it  determines  everything,  it  is  itself  determined  by  noth- 
ing, and  cannot  be  determined  by  anything  without  annull- 
ing its  very  nature ;  it  cannot  be  govei'ued,  and  in  propor- 
tion as  it  is  governed  ceases  to  be  responsible;  by  its  bare 
wilfulness,  it  can  make  any  reason  or  motive  to  be  "  the  last ;  " 
and,  in  fine,  in  view  of  any  chance  impulse  afloat  in  conscious- 
ness, it  can  "  project  itself,"  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  right 
athwart  our  habitual  mental  and  moral  states,  and  so  change 
us,  by  its  arbitrary  "  altei-na-tivity,"  that  we  become  the  op- 
posite of  what  we  are  or  wish  to  be,  ^vith  no  power  to  let  or 
hinder.  Such  a  lawless  capability  is  nearer  akin  to  omnipo- 
tent chance  than  moral  necessity  is  to  fatalism.  It  is  safe 
only  while  shut  up  in  tlie  technical  language  of  abstract 
metaphysical  treatises.  An  arbitrary  "  pluripotential  cause," 
though  it  may  claim  to  be  the  veiy  essence  of  morality  and 
responsibility,  when  it  really  appears  in  flesh  and  blood  is 
furnished  by  society,  in  self-defense,  with  a  safe  retreat. 

The  idea  of  Necessity,  as  defined  in  this  work,  is  equally 
abstract  and  one-sided  with  its  definitions  of  freedom  and 
cause.  Freedom  means  only  "exemption;"  Cause  is  only 
"  efficiency  ;  "  and  Necessity  signifies  only  the  utter  "  impos- 


EDWARDS  S    DOCTRINE    OF   NECESSITY.  383 

sibility  of  the  opposite."  This  definition  of  ISTecessity  is  so 
fixed  in  Dr.  Whedon's  mind,  that  he  seems  incapable  of 
appreciating  the  careful  distinctions  made  by  Edwards,  and 
on  this  score  does  him  manifest  injustice.  Necessity,  in  fact, 
is  one  of  the  most  difficult  of  the  categories,  and  requires  tlie 
most  delicate  handling.  "  Philosophical  Necessity  "  is  perhaps 
an  unfortunate  phrase  to  use  in  discussions  on  freedom ;  l)ut 
Edwards  ex^^ressly  repudiates  the  sense  in  which  his  critic 
quite  uniformly  ascribes  it  to  him.  He  says  the  vulgar  usage 
makes  Necessity  to  mean  that  "  it  is  impossible  it  should  not 
be  ;  "  but  tluit,  as  he  uses  it,  "  metaphysical  and  philosophical 
necessity  is  nothing  (liferent  from  certainty P  And  he  adds : 
"  It  is  really  nothing  else  than  the  full  and  fixed  connection 
between  the  things  signified  by  the  subject  and  predicate  of  a 
proposition,  which  affirms  sometliing  to  l)e  true."  That  is,  a 
proposition  which  affirms  sometliing  to  be  true,  presupposes 
that  there  is  a  full  and  fixed  connection  between  the  things 
signified  l:>y  its  subject  and  predicate  ;  the  proposition  could 
not  be  true  unless  there  were  such  a  connection ;  and  this 
connection  is  certainty  or  philosophical  necessity.  Wherever 
tliere  is  certainty,  there  is  philosophical  necessity.  The 
things  signified  by  the  subject  and  predicate  may  be  connected 
in  very  different  ways;  the  connection  may  be  metaphysical, 
logical,  physical,  or  moral — but  provided  it  be  certain,  it  is 
philosophical  necessity.  Dr.  Whedon  cannot  understand  this. 
He  says  :  "  Edwards  here  does  not  certainly  say  what  he 
means;  "  but  he  does  say  just  what  he  means.  "VVhedon  con- 
tinues :  "  He  surely  cannot  mean  tliat  necessity  is  the  con- 
nection itself,  but  a  quality  of  the  connection."  And  yet 
Edwards  does  mean  that  the  "  full  and  fixed  connection  "  is 
the  necessity  ;  the  two  ideas  of  "  full  and  fixed  connection," 
and  "philosophical  necessity  or  certainty,"  are  identical. 
This  appears  from  the  instances  Edwards  gives  (pp.  11,  12), 
which  relate  to  very  different  things,  yet  all  agree  in  having 
the  common  element  of  certainty,  thougli  the  ground  of  tlie 
certainty  in  each  case  is  different.  To  adduce  some  cases  : 
we  say,  e.  g.,  God  is  infinite.     This  is  one  case  of  such  neces- 


384  WIIEDON    ON   THE   WILL. 

sity  or  certainty:  there  is  a  full  and  fixed  connection,  in  the 
nature  of  things,  between  the  subject  '  God,'  and  the  predi- 
cate '  infinite.'  Again  :  Dr.  Whedon  misunderstands  Edwards ; 
this  is  another  instance  of  philosophical  necessity  or  certainty ; 
the  connection  of  the  subject  and  predicate  is  certain — be- 
cause it  relates  to  a  fact  already  past,  and  not  because  there  was 
a  natural  impossibility  of  the  opposite.  Again,  the  proposition: 
God  will  judge  the  world — is  another  instance  ;  it  is  certain, 
because  connected  with  what  is  in  itself  certain,  the  divine 
justice  and  purpose.  Edwards  labors  this  point  so  as  to  make 
a  plain  distinction  between  natural  necessity,  and  that  kind  of 
necessity  (certainty)  which  alone  holds  good  of  moral  subjects 
and  acts.  In  the  former — the  opposite  cannot  be ;  in  the 
latter,  though  the  opposite  might  be,  yet  it  will  not  be,  because 
the  given  fact  or  event  is  certain  to  occur.  In  natural  neces- 
sity, the  event  takes  place,  even  though  the  will  be  opposed  ; 
in  moral  necessity,  the  will  itself  chooses,  prefers,  and  so  its 
opposition  is  ruled  out  by  its  own  act.  Dr.  Whedon  says, 
this  is  "only  a  deeper  necessitation "  *  (p.  43);  but  there 
nnist  be  some  stopping  place,  and  when  we  have  come  to  a 
free  preference,  this  is  about  the  end  of  the  matter,  unless  a 
voyage  up  the  infinite  series,  or  a  "  projected  volition,"  seems 
more  desirable.  And  Edwards  himself  makes  a  formal  state- 
ment of  the  point  in  its  relation  to  Moral  Inability,  entirel)^  at 
variance  with  Dr.  Whedon's  constant  misrepresentation  of 
his  views :  "  Therefore  in  these  things  to  ascribe  a  non-per- 
formance to  the  want  of  power  or  ability  is  not  just ;  because 
the  thing  wanting  is  not  a  being  able  but  a  being  willing." 
(See  Tart  I.,  Sec.  4.) 

But  this  leads  us  to  consider  the  author's  cognate  mis- 
representations of    Edwards's    distinctions  between  Natural 

*  Our  author  (p.  210)  writes  :  "  Securing  my  volition  in  order  that  he  may 
secure  my  voluntary  sin  and  consequent  damnation,  is  about  the  poorest 
piece  of  sneaking  despotism  that  one  could  attribute  to  an  omnipotent  evil." 
This  comes  out  in  connection  with  criticisms  on  Dr.  Pond  and  Dr.  Nehemiah 
Adams ;  but  nothing  they  have  said  warrant.s  any  one  in  ascribing  such 
views  to  them. 


NATURAL   AND    MOEAL    xlBILITY.  385 

and  Moral  Ability  and  Inability.  To  apprehend  these  dis- 
tinctions is  vital  to  the  understanding  of  the  New  England 
theology.  Dr.  Whedon  flatters  himself  that  he  has  "  rid- 
dled Edwards's  entire  theory  of  Moral  Inability,"  but  he 
lias  oidy  riddled  his  own  tai-get.  lie  says  that  by  Moral 
Inability  Edwards  means  "■  volitional  powerlessness,"  "  non- 
cansality-in-will ; "  by  "Moral  Ability,"  "the  power  to 
will;"  by  "Natural  Ability,"  "the  power  to  obey  the  voli- 
tion ;  "  and  that  this  natural  ability  is  "  a  power  outside  the 
will,"  a  "  post-volitional  power  of  fulfilling  the  volition." 
Thus  "  a  man  wills  to  strike  by  morcd  ahility,  and  the  arm 
executes  the  blow  by  natural  ahilityP  This,  now,  is  a  com- 
plete tissue  of  mistakes ;  these  definitions  are  all  framed  for 
and  not  by  Edwards,  and  seem  to  indicate  either  a  natural  or 
moral  inability  on  the  part  of  the  ci'itic  to  understand  the 
most  common-place  points  of  the  New  England  divinity. 
Thus,  under  Natural  Ability  are  uniformly  embraced  all  the 
ca2:>acities  and  powers  of  a  moral  agent,  including  the  will 
itself — it  is  the  possible  reach  of  our  natural  powers  of  mind 
and  body,  under  the  circumstances  and  conditions  of  our 
being.  It  never  means  any  such  nonsense  as  "  a  power  out- 
side of  the  will  to  fulfil  its  volitions."  It  includes  what 
Whedon,  confounding  the  two,  says  "  moral  ability"  means, 
that  is,  "  the  power  to  will."  But  Moral  Ability,  besides  the 
power  of  willing,  also  involves  the  idea  of  an  immanent  prefer- 
ence of  the  will  for  the  object  chosen.  Eveiy  man  has  natui-al 
ability,  that  is,  all  the  capacities  and  powers  necessary  to  moral 
agency ;  but  no  sinner  has  "  a  moral  ability  "  (in  the  sense 
of  Edwards)  to  love  God,  because  his  heart  is  averse  to  him. 
Thus  an  Edwardean  would  just  reverse  the  proposition 
of  Dr.  Whedon  (p.  243) :  "  Where  there  is  no  moral  ability 
there  can  be  no  natural  ability^'*  and  would  and  must  say,  in 
consistency  with  his  standard  definitions,  "  Where  there  is  no 
natu7xd  ability  there  can  be  no  moral  ah  Hit  y^'  iov  thQnBXwvoX 
is  the  logical  and  psychological  prius  of  the  moral.  So,  too, 
in  the  usage  of  this  school,  "  Moral  Inability  "  cannot  mean 
"  volitional  powerlessness  ; "  but  it  always  and  only  signifies 


386  WHEDON    ON    THE    WILL. 

"  the  opposition  of  incUnatloii,  or  the  want  of  inclination  ;"  it 
is  an  inabilit}^  arising  from  the  moral  bent  or  state  of  the 
individual.  The  sinnei-,  though  endowed  with  all  the  capaci- 
ties and  powers  of  moral  agency  (his  natural  ability),  is 
morally  unable  to  repent  and  believe  without  divine  grace, 
and  this  inability  has  its  root,  not  in  auy  natural  impotence, 
but  in  the  perverse  and  depraved  state  of  his  will.  One 
object  of  the  distinction  between  natural  ability  and  moral 
inability  is  to  show  that  the  sinner  is  responsible  and  guilty, 
while  also  needing  the  aid  of  divine. grace  ;  so  tliat  both  the 
obligation  to  immediate  repentance  and  the  sense  of  depend- 
ence upon  God  may  be  equally  enforced.  These  plain  and 
familiar  distinctions  become  so  senseless  and  confused  under 
Dr.  Whedon's  manipulation,  that  his  criticisms  on  Edwards  are 
well-nigh  unmeaning.  One  might  as  well  attack  Euclid  after 
defining  a  circle  as  a  figure  bounded  by  three  lines  and  con- 
taining three  angles.  It  is  much  easier  to  refute  Edwards  on 
the  basis  of  these  interpolated  definitions  than  to  attack  him 
on  his  own  ground.  His  careful  and  refined  discriminations 
being  set  aside,  there  is  no  end  to  the  logical  absurdities 
that  may  be  worked  up  and  out ;  only,  nothing  is  demolished 
excepting  some  crudities,  for  which  nobody  but  the  critic  is 
to  be  held  responsible. 

We  are  obliged  to  omit  several  points,  on  which  we  wished 
to  comment,  that  we  may  come  to  the  test  question,  in  a  theo- 
logical point  of  the  view,  of  the  theory  of  freedom  here  advo- 
cated ;  that  is,  the  certainty  of  the  divine  foreknowledge  of 
such  future  events  as  are  dependent  on  free  agency.  Dr. 
Whedon  begins  by  saying,  that  foreknowledge  must  precede 
f oreordination,  because  the  former  belongs  to  "  the  intellect," 
and  the  latter  to  "  the  will ; "  and  we  all  know  that  God's  intel- 
lect, like  man's,  must  act  before  his  will.  But — not  stopping 
to  inquire  what  would  then  be  left  for -f oreordination  to  do — ■ 
it  is  a  serious  misunderstanding  to  say,  that  f oreordination  is 
restricted  to  the  divine  will  or  the  divine  agency.  God  fore- 
ordains whatever  comes  to  pass,  as  it  comes  to  pass  ;  and  so, 
not  only  his  own  acts,  but  the  acts  of  his  creatures,  are  included 


FREE    AGP:]S1CT    AND   DIVIKE   FOREKNOWLEDGE.  3S7 

ill  his  eternal  plan,  with  all  tlie  circumstances  and  qualities  of 
these  acts,  just  as  they  eventuate  in  time.  In  one  sense,  fore- 
knowledge may  be  said  to  precede  foreordination;  that  is,  God 
knew  what  he  was  to  ordain  (in  the  oi-der  of  thoug-ht  and  logic) 
ere  he  ordained  it.  But  this  is  not  the  question  in  dispute, 
though  Arminians  sometimes  like  to  think  that  it  is.  The 
foreknowledge  of  future  events  as  certain  being  conceded, 
the  question  is,  what  is  the  ground  or  reason  of  that  certainty. 
To  foreknow  them  as  certain,  implies  that  they  are  certain. 
What  makes  them  thus  certain  ?  The  Calvinist  replies — that 
they  are  certain  because  contained  in  the  divine  plan  or  pur- 
pose (i.  e.  foreordained).  Dr.  Whedou  replies,  in  substance, 
that  they  are  certain  because  they  are  certain,  while  he  advo- 
cates a  view  of  freedom,  which  logically  excludes  such  cer- 
tainty. 

He  says  (p.  271)  that  "  our  view  of  free  agenc}'  does  not  so 
much  require  in  God  a  foreknowledge  of  a  peculiar  kind  of 
event,  as  a  knowledge  in  him  of  2,  jpeculiar  quality  existent  in 
the  free  agentP  This  "peculiar  quality"  is  that  of  "alterna- 
tive causation."  The  agent  is  "an  uncaused  cause,"  of  "equi- 
pollent ability"  to  decide  either  way,  at  every  instant  of 
action.  It  is  "determined  by  nothing"  in  "all  its  particular 
volitions."  How,  then,  can  even  omniscience  foresee  what  its 
particular  action  will  be  ?  The  more  God  sees  into  the  very 
"  peculiar "  nature  of  such  a  cause,  the  more  will  he  know 
that  its  acts  must  be  uncertain.  It  is  a  pure  either-or ;  and 
the  deeper  it  is  inspected  the  more  either-or  must  it  seem  to 
be.  How  can  any  being  foreknow  the  particular  acts  of  (p. 
217)  "a  self-centre,  capable  of  projecting  action,  which,  with- 
out the  intrinsic  nature  of  chance,  would  be  as  incalculahle  as 
the  most  absolute  chance  itself?  "  Who  can  read  that  riddle  ? 
Dr.  Whedon  says  that  "  foreknowledge  must  take  care  of 
itself,"  and,  that  "  he  shall  not  enter  into  that  inquiry."  Fore- 
knowledge will,  doubtless,  take  care  of  itself ;  but  then,  on 
our  part,  we  also  ought  to  take  care  not  to  cherish  a  theory  of 
the  will,  which  excludes  the  logical  possibility  of  such  fore- 
knowledge, even  while  we  may  grant  that  we  cannot  know  just 


388  WHEDON    ON   THE    WILL. 

how  God  foreknows.  One  form  of  the  scientia  media,  advo- 
cated by  the  Spanish  Jesuits  in  controversy  with  the  Jansen- 
ists,  was  much  more  consistent  than  such  Arminianism ; 
denying  that  God  foreknows  the  actual  event,  bnt  asserting 
that  he  knows  and  provides  for  all  possil:)le  contingencies. 

Yet  Dr.  Whedon  advocates  a  kind  of  certainty  ;  though  his 
statements  about  it  are  so  various  and  conflicting,  that  it  is 
almost  impossible  to  derive  from  them  any  consistent  sense. 
This  will  appear  from  a  comparison  of  his  different  utter- 
ances. Thus  he  says :  "  Whether  there  be  any  foreknowledge 
or  not,  it  is  certain  that  there  will  be  a  one  particular  course 
of  events  and  no  otlierP  He  adds  that  ^^freedoni  in  every 
individual  case  im^jlies  that  of  several  possible  volitions,  one 
and  no  other  will  take  place  "  (p.  274).  He  says  of  certainty, 
that  (p.  57)  '"its  primary  meaning  is  subjective.  It  exists  in 
the  mind  rather  than  in  the  ol)ject."  He  also  concedes,  tliat 
there  is  a  "  pure  certainty,"  which  is  "  the  f  uturition  of  the 
event,"  and  which  implies  that  "it  wiU  be,"  though  "power  ex- 
ists for  it  not  to  be."  At  tlie  same  time,  he  maintains,  that 
"  certainty  "  cannot  be  "  previously  made  "  (p.  282) ;  and  that 
God's  foreknowledge  does  not  even  ^'■j)rove  events  to  be  cer- 
tain" (p.  298).  To  complete  his  view  we  must  also  adduce  the 
positions,  that  certainty  "  is  simply  f  uturition,  and  takes  its 
existence  from  the  shaping  of  the  free  act  and  from  nothing 
else  "  (p.  778) ;  and  that  "  all  its  reality  receives  its  existence 
from  the  doing  reflected  hachioards  "  (p.  229). 

These  diverse  statements  seem  to  be  not  only  irreconcilable 
among  themselves,  but  also  in  part  with  his  theory  of  the  will. 
He  has  defined  the  will  as  a  free  alternative  cause,  all  whose 
particular  volitions  are  determined  "  by  nothing."  It  is  an 
"  uncaused  cause."  How,  now,  does  such  freedom  "  imply  " 
that  "  one  and  no  other  volitioii "  will  take  place  in  all  possible 
circumstances  ?  How  can  the  "  freedomist,"  as  the  logical 
result  of  this  theory,  in  our  authoi-'s  words,  see  and  say,  that 
there  is  one  vast  "  free,  certain  totality,"  which  he  can  survey 
"  with  perfect  ease  and  consistency  "  ?  Is  it  not  a  bold  ven- 
ture, to  claim  that  such  freedom  implies  such  certainty  ?     It 


DK.    WHEDON  S   POSITION    ON   CERTAINTY,  389 

• 

does  imply  that  one  or  another  event  will  take  place,  but  how 
can  it  signify  that  "  one  and  no  other  will  take  place  "  ?  Does 
uncertainty  iin2:>ly  certainty  ?  Will  calling  shifting  sand  a 
rock,  make  it  a  rock  ?  These  different  statements  confuse  a 
very  simple  matter.  If  an  event  xoill  he,  it  is  certain  ;  if  God 
knows  that  it  will  be,  he  knows  that  it  is  certain  ;  and  so  his 
knowing  it  as  certain  implies  or  "proves"  that  it  is  certain. 
Such  knowledge  does  not  indicate,  or  make,  the  ground  of  the 
certainty  ;  but  it  presupposes  the  certainty.  But  if,  as  Dr. 
Whedon  says,  certaintj^  "  take!^  its  existence  from  the  shaping 
of  the  free  act,  and  from  nothing  else,"  then,  the  certainty 
cannot  be  until  the  free  act  has  been  ;  that  is,  there  is  no  pre- 
vious certainty  ;  that  is,  God  cannot  foresee  the  act  as  certain, 
because  it  is  not  certain  until  it  is  done.  Such  a  certainty, 
j)Ost  eventum,  is  no  certainty  at  all  in  the  sense  of  the  ques- 
tion. It  is  a  mere  evasion  of  the  point  in  dispute.  "Who  ever 
doubted  that  an  event  was  certain  after  it  took  place  ? 

Our  author's  position,  in  fact,  amounts  to  this — that  there 
is  and  can  be  no  anterior  ground  of  certainty,  either  in  the 
laws  of  moral  agency,  or  in  the  nature  of  things,  or  in  the  di- 
vine plan  ;  but,  a  future  event  is  certain  because  it  is  certain  ! 
We  do  not  wonder  that  he  felt  compelled  to  sa}^  "  foreknow- 
ledge must  take  care  of  itself."  The  point  of  mystery  in  the 
Calvinistic  system  is,  how  an  act  can  be  free  and  yet  be  em- 
braced in  the  divine  purpose  ;  but  this  does  not  involve  any 
such  contradiction  as  is  contained  in  the  two  positions,  that 
God  foreknows  all  future  events  as  certain,  and,  that  certainty 
"  takes  its  existence  from  the  shaping  of  the  free  act,  and  from 
nothing  else."  We  may  believe  in  a  mystery,  but  who  can 
accept  l)oth  parts  of  a  logical  contradiction  ? 

In  his  discussion  of  the  divine  decrees.  Dr.  Whcdon  habitu- 
ally misrepresents  the  doctrine  of  predestination  as  held  by 
the  chief  Cah'inistic  authorities.  He  represents  it  as  "  an 
act  of  the  divine  will ; "  as  "  producing  the  event ;  "  as  "  em- 
bracing onl}^  the  divine  actions."  Accordingly  he  claims 
that  a  "  permissive  decree  "  is  Arminianism,  and  not  Calvinism. 
He  asserts  that  Edwards  quits  his  ground,  when  he  ascril)es 


300 


WHEDON    ON   THE    WILL, 


sin  to  a  •'  privative  cause,"  and  not  to  the  direct  divine  agency 
(p.  427).  But  every  student  in  theology  knows  that  Calvin- 
ism makes  a  broad  distinction  between  what  God  decrees  and 
what  he  does  ;  the  confounding  of  the  two  is  found  chiefly 
among  a  few  hyper-Calvinistic  supralapsarian  divines.  The 
best  theologians,  from  Augustine  down,  and  the  leading  Con- 
fessions of  Faith,  have  quite  uniformly  repudiated  the  posi- 
tions, that  God  is  the  author  of  sin  ;  that  he  is  as  directly  the 
efficient  cause  of  sin  and  damnation,  as  he  is  of  holiness 
and  salvation — producing  each  equally  for  his  own  glory  ; 
while  they  have,  with  equal  unanimity,  maintained  that  the 
decree  in  respect  to  sin  is  permissive,  and  that  the  agency  of 
God  in  respect  to  sin  is  privative  rather  than  positive.  Such 
cheap  and  stale  controversial  imputations  are  refuted  by  the 
facts  and  documents  of  historical  theology. 

In  apj)lying  his  theory  of  the  Will  to  the  divine  mind,  our 
author  does  not  flinch  from  the  logical  consequences  which 
are  wrapped  up  in  it.  Thus  he  says  (p.  316) :  "  God  is  holy  in 
that  he  freely  chooses  to  make  his  own  happiness  in  eternal 
Right.  Whether  he  could  not  make  himself  equally  ha^py  in 
Wrong  is  more  than  we  can  sayP  Again  (j;).  317) :  ''  And 
how  knows  a  finite  insect  like  us  that  in  the  course  of  ages 
the  motives  in  the  universe  may  not  prove  strongest  for  divine 
apostasy  to  evilP  Again  (p.  318):  "Our  reliance  in  this 
case  depends  more  upon  the  firmness  of  otir  faith  than 
upon  the  firmness  of  the  ohject  of  our  faithP  This  reduces 
our  reliance  upon  the  divine  character,  to  mere  subjective 
belief,  without  any  adequate  objective  ground.  The  essen- 
tial of  holiness  of  God  gives  no  sufficient  basis  of  cer- 
tainty. "  The  alternative  power  "  of  the  will  must  be  main  • 
tained  at  all  hazards ;  for  if  it  fails  in  relation  to  God,  it 
fails  in  its  highest  application.  Moral  necessity  and  perfect 
freedom  cannot  coexist  even  in  the  divine  mind.  Eather  than 
give  up  "  freedomism,"  the  possibility  of  "  the  divine  apos- 
tasy "  must  be  admitted.     And  so  the  theory  judges  itself. 

Dr.  Whedon  is  graciously  pleased  to  say  (p.  315),  that 
"  these  same  Edwardses  every  now  and  then  have  a  lucid  in- 

\ 


DR.  whedon's  inconsistencies.  391 

terval."  The  compliment  may  be  reciprocated.  Arminian- 
ism  is  reputed  to  be  an  inconsistent  system.  An  eminent 
New  England  divine  is  said  to  have  kept  it  out  of  his  parish 
by  frequent  citations  of  sound  Pauline  views  from  noted  Ar- 
minian  authors.  The  latest  defender  of  the  system  continues 
the  illogical  succession,  being  frequent  witness  against  his 
own  speculations.  Thus  he  asserts  the  certainty  of  events, 
and  recognizes  no  ground  of  certainty.  Sometimes  the  will  is 
represented  as  the  sole  adequate  cause  of  volition  ;  and  yet 
he  concedes  (p.  158),  "  that  without  motives  there  is  no  ade- 
quate power  for  the  volition  to  be."  He  contends  strongly 
against  the  "  non-usance  "  of  the  power  of  contrary  choice  ; 
and  yet  says  (p.  175)  that  "  while  there  is  a  power  that  each 
sliould  not  he,  yet  each  and  all  ur'dl  he,  in  its  own  one  way,  and 
not  another  instead  "  (p.  275).  Freedom  is  declared  (p.  oS) 
"  to  be  contradicted  by  the  law  of  Invariability,"  while  it  is 
also  conceded  that  God  is  free,  though  invariably  holy  ;  and 
that  men  are  free  in  sinning,  though  they  invariably  sin.  At 
one  time  it  is  asserted  (p.  21G)  that  to  be  "  able  to  predict 
which  way  a  person  will  choose  from  knowing  \\\n\  perfectly 
is  more  than  any  one  is  able  to  affirm  ;  "  and  contrariwise  (p. 
272)  it  is  argued,  that  "  God  is  certainly  to  be  conceived  as 
able  to  know  just  what  acts  the  creature  will  put  forth,"  be- 
cause he  "  perfectly  knows  "  the  capacities  of  free  agents. 
The  fact  of  the  divine  government  of  free  agents  is  granted  ; 
and  yet  it  is  broadly  laid  down  (p.  184)  tliat  "  government, 
just  so  far  as  it  goes,  implies  limitation  .  .  .  non-existence  of 
power  but  to  a  fixation."  "  To  ensure  the  certainty  of  a  free 
act  is  absurd,  because  contradictory  "  (p.  227);  and,  per  con- 
tra, "  powerful  temptation  often  insures  that,  sooner  or  later, 
the  sin  will  be  freely  accepted." 

These  inconsistencies,  however,  become  more  noteworthy,  in 
relation  to  the  doctrines  of  the  primeval  rectitude  of  Adam, 
original  sin,  the  impossibility  of  self-regenei-ation,  and  the  ab- 
solute need  of  the  atonement.  For  Dr.  Whedon  is  an  evan- 
gelical Arminian,  and  cannot  resort  to  the  shifts  and  expla- 
nations in  vogue  in  unsanctilied  etliical  systems.    He  defends 

I 


393  WUEDON    ON    THE    WILL. 

Whitby  on  freedom,  and  denies  Wliitbj  on  sin.  And  so  he  is 
in  a  place  where  two  seas  meet;  where  opposite  dangers 
threaten. 

Dextrum  Scylla  latus,  laevum  implacata  Charybdis 
Obsidet. 

In  his  chapter  on  Uniformities  of  Volition,  he  seems  to 
grant  as  mnch  as  the  strictest  advocate  of  inability  need  de- 
mand, the  existence  of  a  "total  spiritual  depravity,"  requiring 
even  "the  injecting  the  possibility  of  a  spiritual  motive." 
"  Men  may  be  so  absorbed  i)i  their  plans  as  to  cease  to  be  free 
alternative  agents,  yet  their  responsibility  remains."  His  most 
explicit  statements,  however,  are  on  the  Responsibility  of  Ob- 
durates.*  Here  he  concedes  that  "  the  superinduction  by  the 
sinner's  own  free  act,  or  course  of  action,  of  necessity  upon 
himself  to  sin,  destroys  the  excuse  for  that  necessity."  This 
of  course  implies  that  he  is  responsible  for  continuing  in  sin, 
as  well  as  for  bringing  himself  into  such  a  state.  How,  then, 
is  it  congruous  with  what  is  elsewhere  and  often  asserted,  that 
guilt  attaches  only  as  long  as  the  will  is  in  a  state  of  "  voli- 
tional alternativity  "  ?  Necessitation  and  responsibility  a)'e 
over  and  over  again  declared  to  be  incompatible  (p.  203) ; 
but  yet  in  the  case  of  every  descendant  of  Adam,  there  is  "  a 
necessity  lying  back  of  the  freedom,"  and  insuring  the  "free 
appropriation  "  of  original  sin  ;  and  he  adds  (p.  339)  that  "  it 
is  in  this  fact  that  i\\Q  freedom  and  universality  of  this  fall 
are  found  to  be  reconciled."  He  allows  that  in  Adam  "  there 
was  a  created  and  necessitated  righteousness  before  choice " 
(p.  394),  which,  however,  Avas  wholly  unmeritorious  ; "  and  that 
the  "'  holiness  of  saints  in  heaven  is  none  the  less  rewardable 
because  it  has  become^  necessary  "  (p.  387) ;  as  also  that  "  sin- 

*  In  a  note  (p.  327)  the  following  slip  occurs :  Edwards  selects  as  cases 
"of  necessitated  guilty  the  Will  of  Christ,  the  Dirine  WiU,  Obdurates,"  etc. 
In  another  note  (p.  20(})  he  refers  to  "  a  tribute  paid  by  fatalism  to  freedom, 
just  as  hypocrisy  is  said  to  be  the  compliment  which  mrt\ie  'pays  to  vice,^'' 
which  not  only  reverses  the  saying,  but  implies  that  fi'eedom  is  vice  and 
fatalism  virtue.  An  author  who  undertakes  to  write  down  the  Calvinistic 
theology  should  be  more  careful  in  his  style. 


"graciocs  ability.""  393 

ners  finally  damned  are  none  the  less  responsible."  However 
much  such  inconsistencies  impair  the  logical  coherence  of  the 
treatise,  they  give  welcome  evidence  that  our  Methodist  breth- 
ren will  not  abandon  these  cardinal  doctrines,  however  enam- 
oured they  may  be  of  their  impracticable  theorj'  of  free  will. 

These  contrasted  positions,  however,  are  not  held  without 
an  attempt  at  adjustment.  And  the  ingenuity  of  the  latest 
and  most  strenuous  defender  of  the  Arminian  system  is  here 
put  to  its  severest  test.  To  meet  some  of  the  exigencies  of 
the  case,  he  distinguishes  (p.  388)  between  a  holiness  which 
is  meritorious  and  one  which  is  not;  and,  in  like  manner,  be- 
tween a  sin  which  deserves  punishment  and  a  sin  which  does 
not.  But  his  chief  point  is  that  the  atonement  is  the  means 
of  "  reelevating  man  to  the  level  of  responsibility  lost  by 
the  fall."  Redemption  '*  antedates  probationary  existence  ;  " 
"grace  underlies  all  our  moral  probationary  freedom."  And 
this  grace  God  was  in  justice  bound  to  bestow.  Ability  being- 
lost  by  the  fall,  "  a  gracious  ability  "  must  needs  be  imparted. 
And  thus  the  difficulty  is  supposed  to  be  met. 

The  system  of  redemption  has,  doubtless,  important  and 
even  essential  bearings  upon  the  theodicy,  or  the  vindication 
of  the  divine  government  in  respect  to  the  existence  of  sin. 
And  in  a  certain  sense,  what  may  be  called  a  gracious  ability 
is  imparted  to  man,  through  the  divine  favor.  But  if  it  is  of 
debt,  it  cannot  be  of  grace.  It  cannot  be  said  to  be  necessary 
to  make  man  responsible,  without  undermining  both  the  sys- 
tem of  law  and  the  system  of  grace.  Especially  is  it  incon- 
sistent with  the  whole  previous  argument  of  this  book  as  to 
man's  freedom  and  responsibility.  The  object  of  the  author 
has  been  to  show  that  responsibility  attaches  only  to  acts  of 
free-will,  done  with  full  power  to  the  contrary.  He  claims 
that  such  free-will  is  inalienable  from  human  nature  ;  that 
with  this  capacity  every  man  is  born,  and  so,  and  so  only, 
made  a  moral  agent.  How,  now,  does  this  native  power  of 
alternative  choice  stand  related  to  this  new  and  "gracious" 
ability  ?  Here  come  up  several  interesting  possibilities  and 
difficulties.     We  are  now  conscious,  it  is  said,  of  having  the 


394  WHEDON   ON    THE   WILL. 

perfect  power  of  alternative  choice.  Is  this  our  "gracious" 
ability  ?  or  is  it  our  natural  free-will  ?  If  it  is  the  natural 
capacity  of  choice,  how  can  it  be  said  that  responsibility  was 
lost  by  the  fall?  If  it  is  not  natural,  but  "gracious"  ability, 
wherein  does  it  differ  from  the  natural  ?  And  if  the  natui-al 
capacity  is  really  clean  gone,  what  l:)ecoines  of  the  whole  ar- 
gument of  this  elaborate  treatise?  Still  further,  our  author 
assures  us  that  every  human  being  is  under  a  "necessity"  of 
"  freely  appropriating"  his  native  depravity;  and  that  when 
he  does  so,  he  becomes  "  responsible  "  for  it.  This  "  free  ap- 
propriation," is  it  made  by  our  natural  ability,  or  by  this 
"gracious"  al)ility?  If  by  the  natural,  then  tlie  gracious 
was  not  needed  to  make  men  responsible  ;  if  by  the  gracious, 
then  the  immediate  effect  of  the  grace  is  simply  to  enable 
man  to  commit  a  sin,  which  otherwise  he  could  not  have  com- 
mitted, to  make  him  responsible  for  what  otherwise  would 
have  been  ordy  an  irresponsible  state.  Besides,  if  the  native 
will  is  a  "  pluripotential  cause,"  what  can  be  added  to  that  l)y 
a  gracious  ability  ?  It  cannot,  we  suppose,  be  more  than 
"  pluripotential,"  and  so  it  is  needless ;  while  if  it  is  less  than 
"  an  uncaused  cause,"  man  rather  loses  than  gains  by  the 
exchange.  And  yet  he  cannot  have  lost  this  "  uncaused 
cause  ; "  for  it  is  his  very  will.  Is  it  then  possible  that  these 
two  abilities  coexist  in  all  of  us  ?  Are  we  ever  conscious  of 
them  as  distinct  from  each  other?  How  can  we  distinguish 
the  one  from  the  other?  We  cannot  see  our  way  through  the 
matter. 

Perhaps  we  may  be  helped  b}^  some  further  statements  of 
our  authoi',  about  the  relation  of  these  respective  abilities  to 
the  Old  Law,  and  the  New  Law  (p.  336).  God,  it  appears, 
gave  to  man  the  old  law,  M^hich  Adam  transgressed.  Adam's 
descendants  being  involved  in  the  common  ruin,  God  gave 
them,  through  the  atonement,  a  new  law,  less  sti-ict  in  its 
terms,  and  furnished  them  also  with  this  gracious  ability, 
adequate  to  the  demand  of  the  "  intermediate  "  dispensation, 
though  not  to  the  demands  of  the  old  law.  How  will  the 
case  then  stand  ?     Grantimr  that  man's  native  free  will  was 


■WHAT  THE  THKORY  OF  "  GRACIOUS  AEILTTY  "  LEADS  TO.      395 

not  adequate  to  the  demands  of  the  old  law,  why  might  it  not 
still  have  been  equal  to  the  requisitions  of  the  new  and  lighter 
dispensation?  But  waiving  that  point,  we  do  not  quite  un- 
derstand whether,  when  man  now  sins,  he  sins  only  against 
the  Gospel,  or  also  against  the  law?  If  OTily  against  the 
Gospel,  how  can  the  law  condemn  him?  And  if  against 
the  law,  how  is  he  responsible,  since  his  new  and  gracious 
ability  is  not  commensurate  with  tlie  demands  of  that  law  ? 
And  this  gracious  ability  is  also,  in  fact,  inadequate  to  meet 
even  the  demands  of  the  new  law.  It  is  given  to  man  at  the 
dawn  of  his  moral  existence,  and  yet  all  men  sin  against  it. 
All  mankind  fall  from  this  grace.  A  gracious  ability  enables 
them  to  fall  from  grace.  "We  need  not  wonder  that  Armin- 
ians  talk  about  helieving  in  falling  from  grace,  as  if  it  were 
an  article  of  their  creed.  Onr  author  says,  in  conclusion, 
"  Man  is  never  responsible  for  a  law  he  cannot  meet;  Christ's 
death  and  the  new  law  are  demanded  by  his  case  ;  and  {sic!) 
all  sin  infringes  against  the  new  law  and  the  old."  And  this 
sentence  forcibly  exhibits  the  height  of  the  inconsistencies 
of  the  whole  theory.  The  new  law  is  demanded  by  equity, 
because  man  could  not  keep  the  old  ;  but  when  he  sins  against 
the  new,  his  sin  also  infringes  upon  the  old,  though  he  has 
been  removed  from  its  jurisdiction.  And  so  we  have  two 
kinds  of  ability,  and  two  kinds  of  law,  and  two  kinds  of  pun- 
ishment, and  two  kinds  of  moral  government;  and  the  whole 
makes  alabyrintli,  strikingly  illustrative  of  tbe  clearness  and 
consistency  of  Arminian  theology.  Calvinism  may  be  a 
sharp  and  hard  system ;  but  it  takes  no  position,  from  which 
it  can  fairly  be  inferred  that  Ave  are  "  damned  by  grace." 

Nor  have  we  yet  reached  the  height  of  the  tlieology  pro- 
pounded in  this  volume.  For  it  is  also  maintained,  that,  not 
only  is  man's  plenipotentiary  will  under  a  necessity  of  appro- 
priating native  depravity,  and  responsible  because  it  freely 
accepts  it ;  not  only  that  the  atonement  imparts  to  every 
n)an  at  the  start  a  gracious  ability  (and,  some  say,  justifica- 
tion and  regeneration  also),  which  enables  him  freely  to  keep 
or  f reelv  to  sin  against  the  new  law ;  but  also  that  there  arc 


39G  WHEDON    ON   THE   WILL. 

"  millions,"  in  Christian  as  well  as  in  heathen  lands.,  whom 
the  Creator  is  still  bound  to  save,  because  they  never  came  up 
to  the  level  of  "  moral  responsibility."  These  are  not  infants, 
whose  salvation  we  all  concede,  but  "irresponsible  adults"  in 
Christian  lands,  incrnsted  in  "irresponsible  sins."  Such  pei-- 
sons  cannot,  "by  the  law  of  moral  equation,"  be  "  excluded 
from  the  kingdom  of  heaven  any  more  than  infants  "  (pp. 
346,  347).  If  it  were  only  meant  that  persons  having  little 
light  may  be  saved,  on  condition  of  repentance  and  faith, 
according  to  the  light  they  have,  this  would  be  common 
ground.  But  it  is  argued  that  they  must  be  saved,  because 
they  are  "  irresponsible."  This  is  hazardous  teaching,  on 
the  basis  of  any  moral  or  theological  system.  But  it  becomes 
anomalous,  as  well  as  perilous,  on  the  ground  of  the  general 
tlieoi'y  of  the  book,  that  all  these  persons  have  a  perfectly 
"  alternative  will,"  snj^plemented  by  a  gracious  ability  ;  that 
they  were  all,  if  not  justified  and  renewed  in  their  infancy, 
yet  brought  into  existence  under  a  probationary  system  of 
grace,  against  which  they  have  sinned ;  and  yet,  in  spite  of 
all  this,  that  they  are  still  in  an  irresponsible  state,  and  must 
be  saved  as  a  matter  of  equity.  Such  teaching  undermines 
all  rational  basis  for  responsibility  and  runs  far  in  the  line  of 
advocating  universal  salvation  on  the  ground  of  equity. 

In  fine,  the  whole  argument  of  this  volume,  so  far  as  it 
rests  the  "  theodicy"  upon  the  peculiar  theory  of  Will  herein 
advocated,  is  a  conspicuous  failure.  It  is  claimed  that  "free- 
domism  "  is  the  only  basis  u])on  which  the  mysterious  prob 
lems  of  man's  condition  can  be  solved,  in  harmony  with  the 
rectitude  and  goodness  of  the  divine  administration.  But 
M-hen  the  author  comes  to  the  knotty  questions,  he  does  not, 
and  he  cannot,  untie  a  single  one  of  them  by  means  of  his 
theory  of  the  will.  He  is  obliged  to  find  a  wholly  difterent 
clew  to  guide  him  through  the  la1)yrinth.  lie  lays  a  founda- 
tion, and  erects  the  superstructure  on  a  different  fonndation. 
He  makes  certain  premises,  and  his  conclusions  are  drawn 
from  entirely  different  premises.  He  launches  a  craft  on 
these  troubled  metaphysicul  and  theological  waters,  and  the 


THE  author's  theodicy.  397 

fore  pai-t  beats  about  without  any  sort  of  connection  with  the 
after  part,  and  the  after  part  floats  about  without  any  sort  of 
connection  witli  the  fore  part ;  and  no  rudder  can  steer  both 
parts  through  these  vexed  waves  into  the  same  haven. 

This  is  manifest  as  soon  as  the  mattei-  is  distinctly  put.  lie 
abandons  the  possibility  of  reconciling  the  certainty  of  the 
divine  knowledge  with  the  fact  of  freedom ;  he  cannot  con- 
ceive or  state  any  ligature  between  them.  Both  certainty 
and  freedom  are  asserted  and  unreconciled.  So,  too,  in  ac- 
counting for  the  sin  of  the  race,  he  grants  that  it  is  freely 
appropriated  by  a  necessity,  before  which  the  will  is  really 
powerless.  And  so  impotent  is  the  native  capacity  of  the 
will,  that  God  is  obliged  to  give  to  all  men  "  a  gracious  abil- 
ity" in  addition.  So  that  here,  again,  "freedomism"  quails 
before  the  difficulty.  It  is  further  asserted  that  God's  good- 
ness can  be  vindicated  in  the  matter  of  sin  only  as  he  provides 
an  atonement  for  all,  which  of  course  implies  that  it  is  not  of 
liim  that  willeth,  but  of  God  that  showeth  mercy.  An  "  al- 
ternative cause  "  gives  no  aid  here.  Thousands  of  irresponsi- 
ble, ad\ilt  sinners,  are  also  to  be  saved  all  over  the  world,  as  a 
matter  of  ecpiity,  because  their  inalienal)le  freedom  was  not 
able  to  bring  them  up  to  the  condition  of  responsible  guilt. 
Of  what  avail,  then,  is  their  free-will  \  The  authors  theodicy 
declares  that  God  must  provide  redemption  for  all  mankind, 
not  merely  on  the  score  of  grace  but  also  of  equity;  and  for 
the  reason,  that  men  have  not  power  to  avoid  the  common 
ruin  into  which  they  are  plunged.  What  connection  is  tliere 
between  such  a  theodicy  and  the  doctrine  of  the  freedom  of 
the  will,  as  a  power  to  the  contrary  %  And  thus  the  vaunted 
freedom  of  the  will,  which  was  to  form  the  only  basis  of  a 
divine  government,  breaks  down  and  is  discarded  at  every 
step ;  and  the  whole  weight  of  the  solution  of  the  problems  of 
the  theodicy  is  made  to  rest  on  entirely  different  grounds. 
By  this  process,  the  theory  is  doubtless  here  and  there  bene- 
fited, some  cardinal  points  of  doctrine  are  crudely  held  and 
stated  ;  but  the  logic  of  the  book,  as  a  defence  of  Arminian 
freedom  against  the  Calvinistic  theology,  is  sadly  out  of  joint. 


398  WIIEDON    ON   THE    WILL. 

On  several  of  these  vital  questions,  Dr.  Wliedon  does  in 
fact  come  so  near  to  the  positions  even  of  extreme  Calvinists, 
that  we  have  been  tempted  to  think  that  he  has  an  irenic  as 
well  as  polemic  intent.  Ilis  inconsistencies  on  many  points — 
e.  g.,  original  sin,  regeneration,  the  inability  of  fallen  man  to 
renew  himself  witliout  grace,  the  absolute  need  of  redemp- 
tion, and  the  primitive  rectitude  of  Adam — indicate  very 
clearly  that  his  theory  of  the  will  sits  lightly  upon  him,  when 
brought  into  conflict  with  these  fundamental  doctrines.  His 
book  contains  snatches  of  opinion  from  the  most  opposite 
schools.  Sometimes  he  is  almost  Augustinian  in  his  views. 
Again  he  reminds  us  of  the  subtle  speculations  of  the  old 
Ilopkinsian  divines.  lie  bases  his  theodicy,  in  fact,  not  on 
the  human  will,  but  on  the  divine  goodness  and  justice.  A 
more  thorough  study  of  Cailviuistic  theology,  and  especially 
of  the  New  England  discussions,  may  possibly  lead  him  to  see 
that  this  whole  ground  has  been  traversed  before,  and  by  dis- 
putants more  keen  and  logical  than  have  as  yet  arisen  in  the 
ranks  of  Arminian  divines. 

The  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  of  this  country,  rapidly 
increasing  in  numbers,  wealth  and  general  intelligence,  has  a 
great  future  before  it,  and  is,  we  trust,  to  do  good  service  in 
tlie  common  cause  of  evangelical  religion.  Its  theology  is  a 
commingling  of  Arminianism  and  sound  evangelical  truth.  Its 
preaching  is  full  of  the  cross  of  Christ.  It  i'nsists  constantly 
on  the  necessity  of  divine  grace.  But  it  has  a  traditional 
horror  of  Calvinism  in  all  its  forms.  When  it  learns  to 
understand  our  doctrines  more  clearly,  and  to  state  its  own 
more  consistently,  we  shall  doubtless  come  nearer  together. 
But  Its  present  theology  contains  irreconcilable  elements.  If 
it  is  consistently  shaped  by  such  a  theory  of  the  Will  as  is 
advocated  in  this  volume,  the  logical  result  must  be  the  denial 
of  original  sin  as  well  as  of  the  doctrine  of  the  decrees  of 
God ;  and  its  strong  assertions  about  depravity  and  the  abso- 
lute need  of  divine  grace  must  be  modified  in  the  sense  of  the 
Pehigiau  system.  But  if  it  is  steadfast  to  its  doctrines  upon 
man's  native  sinfulness  and  dependence  upon  divine  grace,  it 


OF   FREE-WILL.  399 

may,  ou  the  other  hand,  modify  its  speculations  about  free- 
dom, and  come  into  closer  harmony  with  the  unquestionable 
historical  sense  of  the  eighth  of  its  articles  of  Religion, 
entitled  Of  Free-Will,  adopted  from  the  Church  of  England, 
which  declares,  that  "  the  condition  of  man  after  the  fall  of 
Adam  is  such,  that  he  cannot  turn  and  prepare  himself,  by  his 
own  natural  strength  and  works,  to  faith,  and  calling  upon 
God ;  wherefore  we  have  no  power  to  do  good  works, 
pleasant  and  acceptable  to  God,  without  the  grace  of  God 
by  Christ  preventing  us,  that  we  may  have  a  good  will,  and 
working  with  us  when  we  have  that  good  will." 


EENAN'S  LIFE   OF  JESUS. 


An  old  Jewish  proverb  rims,  that  "  The  secret  of  man  is 
the  secret  of  the  Messiah."  Man  knows  what  he  is,  and  is  to 
be,  only  as  he  knows  the  Son  oi  God.  In  him,  the  enigma 
of  hnman  destiny  is  resolved.  And  this  is  the  testimony  of 
history,  as  well  as  the  pledge  of  revelation.  For  eighteen 
hundred  yeai-s,  millions  of  living  and  believing  hearts  have 
hailed  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  as  the  head  and  Redeemer  of  the 
race,  the  incarnation  of  divinity.  Ancient  history  converged 
to  his  cross;  modern  history  has  received  from  him  its  or- 
firanizino;  hiw.  In  him,  human  thonght,  too,  has  found  the 
Solution  of  the  problem  of  human  life,  the  disclosure  of  the 
divine  theodicy,  the  reconciliation  between  God  and  man,  tlie 
centre  of  the  whole  drama  of  history,  even  to  its  consumma- 
tion in  a  kingdom  which  shall  know  no  sin,  and  have  no  end. 
The  facts  of  Christ's  life,  testimony,  death,  resurrection,  as- 
cension, and  regal  dominion,  are  the  substance  of  the  faith  of 
the  church;  without  them  Christianity  itself  has  no  vital 
power  or  independent  being. 

This  historic  supremacy  of  Jesus  is  incontrovertilde.  It  is 
as  real  as  religious  life  and  faith.  Christ  can  no  more  be  ex- 
pelled from  the  coui-se  of  histoi-y  than  the  sun  from  the  cir- 
cle of  the  sky.  Scepticism  about  Christ  is  also  scepticism 
about  history  itself  ;  unbelief  in  him  is  unbelief  in  the  con- 

*  From  the  Am.  Presbyterian  and  Theological  Review  for  January,  1864. 

Vie  de  Jesus,  par  Ehnest  Renan,  Membre  de  I'lnstitut.  Septieme 
edition.     Paris,  1863.     Levy  freres,  pp.  lix.,  459. 

Life  of  Jesus.  By  Ernest  Renan.  Translated  from  the  original 
French  by  Charles  Edwin  Wilbour.  New  York:  Carleton,  1864. 
12mo.  pp.  376. 

26 


402  eenan's  life  of  jesus. 

trolling  ideas  by  which  men  have  been  inspired,  and  in  the 
chief  objects  for  which  men  have  hitherto  lived.  And  such 
is  the  mj'sterious  fascination  which  still  issues  from  his  tran- 
scendent person,  that  even  the  incredulous  are  drawn  to  him 
against  their  very  will.  He  has  power  over  them.  To  take 
the  veil  from  his  form  is  dimly  felt  to  be  like  taking  the  veil 
from  the  master  of  our  fate,  and  reading  the  profoundest  mean- 
ing of  our  earthly  life.  Here  is  the  urn  of  destiny ;  and  that 
urn  holds  no  dead  ashes.  His  power  over  men  is  still  the 
power  of  a  living  personality.  To  every  thoughtful  mind, 
believing  or  unbelieving,  he  is  the  ideal  of  humanity,  the  Sou 
of  Man,  and,  as  no  other,  the  very  Son  of  God.  The  vehe- 
mence with  which  his  claims  are  denied  implies  a  covert  ap- 
prehension that  they  may  still  be  real.  "Where  faith  is  lost, 
reverence  is  cherished.  Not  to  bow  before  his  matchless 
worth  is  to  be  faithless  to  humanity,  if  not  to  divinity  itself. 
His  influence  is  the  marvel  of  history. 

This,  to  say  the  least,  is  a  wonderful  spectacle,  and  puzzling 
to  the  sceptic.  All  the  logic,  the  criticism,  and  the  philoso- 
phy of  naturalism,  and  of  pantheism,  cannot  suppress  this 
spontaneous  homage  to  the  uni-ivalled  spiritual  excellence 
of  Him,  who  is  supernaturalism  itself  in  the  midst  of  human 
history.  And  the  proljlem  infidelity  has  to  solve  is  this  : 
How  can  the  recorded  facts,  attesting  his  character  and 
work,  be  explained,  or  explained  away,  and  still  leave  room 
for  reverence?  ISTot  in  the  miracles  alone,  but  in  the  whole 
life  of  Jesus,  supernaturalism  has  its  stronghold.  Here,  and 
here  alone,  all  is  to  be  won,  or  all  lost.  If  Christ's  whole 
life  can  be  interpreted  on  the  basis  of  naturalism,  and  he 
still  remain  the  moral  hero  of  humanity  ;  if  such  faith  in 
him  can  be  retained  while  prophecy  and  miracle  are  an- 
nulled, then  the  battle  of  infidelity  is  substantially  gained. 
Can  the  Life  of  Jesus  be  reconstructed,  so  as  to  wear  even 
the  semblance  of  reality,  wliile  all  that  is  marvellous  and 
superhuman  is  eliminated  from  it?  May  we  believe  that  he 
introduced  "  the  eternal  religion  of  humanity,"  that  he  is 
worthy  of  the  love  of  all  pure  and  aspiring  souls,  that  he 


WHAT   IS   HERE   AT    STAKE.     •  403 

himself  is  the  holiest  and  best  of  earth's  sons — while  deny- 
ing that  he  was  more  than  man,  and  while  also  asserting  that 
the  whole  of  history  proceeds  according  to  fixed  natural 
laws,  and  that  there  is  no  interposition  of  a  divine  will  and 
wisdom  in  the  midst  of  the  affairs  of  men  ?  To  do  this  is 
the  object  of  Kenan's  Life  of  Jesus.  And  as  each  country 
of  Europe  has  its  ideal  of  woman,  which  it  depicts  as  the 
glorified  Madonna,  so  each  representative  critic  will  imper- 
sonate in  the  character  of  Jesus  his  own  ideal  of  humanitv. 
In  this  new  apocryphal  gospel  we  have  this  ideal  delineated 
by  a  poetic  pantheism,  of  the  French  type. 

And  what  is  here  at  stake,  let  us  recollect,  is  not  the  bare 
criticism  of  ancient  documents,  lighting  up  obscure  and 
insignificant  facts  of  a  long-buried  past ;  not  the  deciphering 
of  parchments  to  unveil  forgotten  men,  for  whom  we  have 
no  living  sympathy ;  not  the  rectification  of  dates  or  events, 
affecting  only  the  secular  fortunes  of  the  I'ace ;  but,  upon 
the  criticism  of  the  records  of  our  faith,  hangs  the  whole 
question  between  naturalism  and  supernaturalism — whether 
God  has  appeared  incarnate  in  history  ;  whether  faith  be 
fact  or  fancy,  truth  or  myth  ;  whether  there  is  an  assured 
economy  of  redemption  ;  whether  the  problems  of  human 
destiny  are  still  an  unsolved  riddle,  or  have  been  definitely 
resolved.  Are  all  our  annals  those  of  time  and  man  alone, 
or  have  we  a  testament  of  the  divine  will  ?  It  is  a  question 
about  facts  and  faith,  which  still  inspire  the  human  race 
with  living  energy,  and  which  cannot  be  ol>literated  without 
drawing  darkness  over  the  heavens  and  the  earth.  So  that 
all  the  special  pleading,  by  which  Renan  and  Strauss  claim 
that  we  are  to  deal  with  the  Gospels  as  we  do  with  Homer, 
Herodotus,  and  Livy,  misrepresents  the  whole  state  of  the 
case.  Indifference  here  is  nascent  unbelief.  The  whole  of 
early  Greek  and  Roman  history  might  be  rewritten  and 
affect  no  vital  interest.  But  the  facts  about  the  life  of 
Christ  are  of  eternal  moment ;  the  whole  relation  of  God  to 
man  is  involved  ;  the  whole  question  between  faith  and  un- 
belief.    Here  it  is  to  be  decided,  whether  man  has  had  any 


^ 


404  eexan's  life  of  jesus. 

illumination  from  above  to  light  up  the  dim  and  perilous  way 
of  life. 

Such  being  the  issue,  infidelity  will  put  forth  all  its  art 
and  strength  in  beleaguering  the  citadel  of  our  faith.  By 
universal  conviction  and  concession  this  is  found  in  the  life 
and  character  of  Jesus.  And  the  Influence  of  Renau's  work 
is,  doubtless,  to  be  attributed  in  part  to  the  instinctive 
eagei-ness  Avith  "which  we  watch  the  progress  of  a  decisive 
battle  in  a  great  cause.  The  most  learned  of  French 
orientalists,  the  most  polished  of  French  critics,  the  ac- 
knowledged master  of  a  fluent  and  penetrating  style,  inge- 
nious and  original  in  combinations,  he  essays  to  reconstruct 
the  biography  of  Jesus  on  purely  naturalistic  principles. 
His  immediate  success  in  France  is  doubtless  to  be  ascribed, 
not  only  to  the  grace  and  brilliancy  of  his  descriptions,  but 
also  to  the  low  estate  of  Biblical  criticism  in  that  country. 
The  replies  to  it  thus  far,  with  the  single  exception  of  an 
article  by  DePressense,  have  been  deplorably  unavailing, 
strong  chiefly  in  anathemas.  The  learned  public  was  taken  at 
unawares.  All  that  the  recent  French  literature  can  exhibit 
upon  this  subject,  is  a  translation  of  Strauss  by  the  academi- 
cian Littre,  an  essay  on  Matthew  by  Keville,  articles  by 
Scherer  and  others  in  tlie  Strasburg  Review  of  Theology, 
and  two  recent  volumes  by  d'Eichthal  on  the  first  Three 
Gospels;  and  all  these  are  the  products  of  a  negative  criti- 
cism, without  any  rejoinders.  The  apathy  of  the  Roman 
Catholic  clergy,  except  in  denunciation,  proves  them  unfit 
to  meet  such  a  want.  Men  are  unprepared  to  meet  the  dif- 
ficulties which  Renan  urges  with  such  oracular  confidence  ; 
and  he  is  very  careful  not  to  give  any  hint  of  the  replies 
that  have  been  made  to  the  positions  he  assumes  as  incon- 
trovertible. He  professes  to  extract  fact  from  legend, 
and  to  have  presented,  as  never  before,  a  living  biography 
of  the  real  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  dissipating  the  halo  of  pro- 
phecy, and  the  nimbus  of  divinity,  and  the  fiction  of  the 
supernatural — leaving  only  the  sacred  aureole  that  encircles 
all  genius.     His  life  is  described  in  its  earlier  scenes  as  an 


JOSEPH   ERNEST   RENAN.  405 

idjl — in  its  issue  as  a  dark  tragedy,  succeeded  by  a  divine 
worship.  It  is,  in  fact,  a  romance,  of  which  Jesus  is  the 
hero — and  a  romance  impossible  to  all,  except  French  taste 
and  art,  heightened  by  scenic  effects,  and  exciting  surprise 
at  every  step  by  its  novel  and  fictitious  associations  and 
combinations.  It  is  an  ingenious  parody,  a  brilliant  carica- 
ture of  the  life  of  the  Son  of  Man,  as  given  in  the  gospels. 
Denying  the  supernatural  element  in  Christ,  and  exalting 
the  natural  to  the  height  of  the  most  impassioned  eulogy, 
it  gives  an  impossible  character — in  fact  a  dual  Jesus,  with 
the  conflicting  elements  and  traits  unreconciled.  It  shows 
the  utter  impossibility  of  constructing  the  life  of  Christ  in 
its  integrity,  denying  the  supernatural,  and  leaving  the 
natural  intact;  for  the  suj^iernatural  is  not  the  costume  of 
Jesus,  in  which  he  was  arrayed  as  in  the  fashion  of  his 
times ;  but  it  is  his  life,  it  is  Himself.  .Deny  him  this, 
and,  like  a  phantom,  he  vanishes  from  the  stage  of  history. 

Before  proceeding  to  the  work  itself,  we  add  a  few  words 
respecting  the  author.  Joseph  Ernest  Renan,  born  at  Tre- 
guier,  Brittany,  Feb.  27,  1S23,  was  trained  for  the  priesthood 
in  the  Seminary  of  St.  Sulpice,  studying  three  years  at  Issy, 
and  two  in  the  great  Seminary  at  Paris.  Soon  estranged 
from  the  Homan  Catholic  church,  he  devoted  himself  chiefly 
to  the  study  of  the  oriental  languages.  In  1847  he  gained 
a  Yolney  prize  for  an  essay,  expanded  into  a  history,  of 
the  Semitic  Languages  (now  in  its  fifth  edition),  following 
methods  of  German  scholarship.  Anotlier  essay  on  the  study 
of  Greek  in  the  Middle  Ages  was  crowned  by  the  Institute,  of 
wliicli  he  became  a  member  in  1856,  succeeding  Augustin 
Thierry  in  the  Academy  of  Inscription.  His  work  on  the 
Origin  of  Language  is  largely  used  by  Ferrar  in  his  volume 
on  that  subject.  A  literary  mission  to  Italy  furnished  him 
with  the  materials  for  a  learned  historical  essay  on  Averroes. 
Ilis  translations  of  Job,  and  the  Song  of  Songs,  deal  with 
these  books  as  literary  compositions.  By  a  dissertation  in 
the  Academy,  1859,  on  Primitive  Monotheism  as  peculiar  to  the 
Semitic  race,  he  provoked  a  lively  discussion.     His  contribu- 


406  eenan's  life  of  jesus. 

tions  to  literary  periodicals  have  been  collected  in  two 
volumes  of  Moral  Essays,  and  studies  in  the  History  of  Re- 
ligion. In  18G9,  under  an  imperial  commission,  he  explored 
Tyre,  Sidon,  Mt.  Lebanon,  and  other  localities  of  Syria ;  and 
here  too,  he  sketched  the  outline  of  his  life  of  Jesus :  "  I  had 
before  my  eyes  a  Fifth  Gosj^el,  torn  but  still  legible,  and 
thenceforth,  throughout  the  recitals  of  Matthew  and  Mark, 
in  place  of  an  abstract  being,  who  one  might  say  never  ex- 
isted, I  saw  an  admirable  human  form,  living  and  moving," 
After  his  return  from  his  Phoenician  researches,  he  was  ap- 
pointed Professor  of  Hebrew  in  the  College  of  France,  but 
his  introductory  lecture  avowing  his  belief  that  Jesus  was 
only  a  man,  "  a  victim  to  his  idea,  and  rendered  divine  by  his 
death,"  aroused  such  vehement  opposition,  that  tlie  course 
was  interdicted.  The  full  plan  of  his  projected  work  on  the 
"  Origin  of  Christianity,"  embraces  four  volumes,  to  the  era  of 
Constantine.     This  Life  of  Jesus  is  the  first  book. 

To  appreciate  aright  the  construction  and  criticism  of  such 
a  volume,  we  need  to  know  something  of  the  speculative 
principles  of  the  author,  since  these  determine  his  particular 
statements,  and  throw  light  on  all  the  outlines.  This  is 
particularly  necessary  in  the  case  of  a  writer,  who  is  often  so 
poetic  and  nebulous,  just  where  we  want  definiteness.  We 
look  out  for  the  solid  earth,  and  find  ourselves  floating  in  a 
sparkling  cloud.  This  volume  presupposes  all  the  principles 
that  underlie  and  shape  it,  and  does  not  prove  any  one  of 
them.  Sometimes  there  is  a  conscious  reserve,  even  when 
the  tone  is  most  oracular,  as  if  the  priest  were  willing  to  hide 
the  penetralia  with  a  veil  of  mystery.  He  is,  in  fact,  much 
less  explicit  here  than  in  some  of  his  previous  essays.  The 
work  is  essentially  a  criticism  of  religion,  as  well  as  a  biog- 
raphy. Is  the  author  a  Christian,  or  a  deist,  or  a  pantheist  ? 
Sometimes  he  seems  to  imply,  that  he  holds  the  same  gen- 
eral views  about  God  and  his  relation  to  the  world  that  Jesus 
proclaimed.     Is  this  really  so  ? 

In  his  famous  letter  on  the  Chair  of  Hebrew  (p.  24),  he 
says :  "  The  course  of  humanity  is  the  direct  resultant  of  the 


THE  SOUL  OF  THE  BOOK.  407 

liberty  which  is  in  man,  and  of  that  fatality  we  call  nature. 
Tliere  is  no  free  being,  superior  to  man,  to  whom  we  can  at- 
tribute an  appreciable  part  in  the  moral  guidance,  any  more 
than  in  the  material  management  of  the  universe."  That  is, 
tliei-e  is  no  Providence  in  history.  In  the  same  letter,  he 
writes :  "  We  feel  ourselves  to  be  in  mysterious  aflinity  with 
our  Father,  the  ahyss^  And  yet  he  eulogizes  the  religion  of 
Jesus,  as  "  the  religion  of  the  race ;  "  the  simplest  utterance 
of  that  religion  is  in  the  words  :  Our  Father — and  this  is  his 
frightful  parody.  In  the  Revue  des  deux  Mondes  (1860,  p. 
374),  he  avows  further:  "  As  to  myself,  I  think  there  is  not  in 
the  universe  an  intelligence  superior  to  that  of  man."  Of 
course,  then,  it  is  impossible  for  him  to  find  in  Jesus  the  mani- 
festation of  such  a  superior  intelligence  ;  Jesus  cannot  be  to 
him  anything  more  than  man,  since  all  that  is  superhuman  is 
zero.  In  the  light  of  such  an  avowal,  too,  what  shall  we  say 
again  of  his  assertion,  "  that  Jesus  had  the  highest  conscious- 
ness of  God,  that  has  been  in  the  bosom  of  humanity." 
Did  his  consciousness  teach  him  that  his  Father  was  not 
superhuman  ?  Kenan's  praise  of  Christ  may  be  a  lure  to  the 
unwary  ;  but  it  can  hardly  confirm  his  oft-repeated  vaunting 
of  the  delicacy  and  conscientiousness  of  modern  science,  as 
conti-asted  with  the  oriental  vagueness  about  moral  distinc- 
tions. Suppose  his  volume  bore  on  its  title-page  either  of 
tiiose  two  phrases  :  "  My  Father  the  abyss,"  or  "  There  is  not 
in  the  universe  an  intelligence  superior  to  that  of  man." 
They  are  not  on  the  title-page,  where  they  ought  to  be  ;  but 
they  are  the  soul  of  the  book,  its  deadly  poison.  They  are 
the  postulates  of  his  pantheistic  philosophy.  And  not  only 
are  they  his  postulates ;  they  are  also  simply  assumed.  He 
nowhere  attempts  to  prove  or  vindicate  them.  He  takes 
them  for  granted  as  the  result  of  modern  thought.  He  reasons 
from  them,  as  other  men  do  from  intuitive  truths.  He  be- 
lieves in  "  positive  science,"  and  will  admit  no  fact  unless  es- 
tablished ;  and  yet  he  assumes  that  there  is  no  personal  deity, 
and  on  this  assumption  he  writes  a  Fifth  Gospel  on  the  life  of 
JesuB  of  Nazareth.     To  reckon  it  even  among  the  apocry])hal 


408  eenan's  life  of  jesus. 

Gospels  is  to  give  it  too  high  a  place,  for  the  authors  of  those 
legends  still  believed  in  God. 

This  denial  of  a  supermundane  intelligence,  tlie  position, 
as  he  elsewhere  phrases  it,  that  "  the  infinite  exists  only 
when  clothed  with  finite  forms,"  that  ''the  absolute  outside 
of  humanity  is  a  mere  abstraction,"  that  "  it  becomes  a  reality 
only  in  humanity,"  is,  for  the  most  part,  carefully  obscured  in 
the  Life  of  Jesus.  The  author  asks,  in  one  passage  (p.  73), 
whether  the  men  who  have  had  the  highest  knowledge  of 
God,  "have  been  deists  or  pantlieists?  Such  a  question,"  is 
the  response,  "  has  no  sense.  The  physical  and  metaphysical 
proofs  of  the  existence  of  God  would  have  left  them  indiffer- 
ent. They  felt  tlie  divine  in  themselves."  This  pantheistic 
tendency  is  more  distinct  in  his  Etudes  on  Feuerbach  (p.  418) : 
"  God  is,  and  all  the  rest  but  seems  to  be,"  ''  God,  Provi- 
dence, and  immortality  are  so  many  good  old  words,  perhaps 
a  little  tiresome,  which  philosophy  will  interpret  in  senses 
more  and  more  refined,  but  which  it  never  can  replace  with 
advantage."  God  "  is  the  category  of  the  ideal,"  as  "  space 
and  time  are  the  cateo-oi'ies  of  bodies."  ConcerniuiJ:  immor- 
talit}',  he  says,  "  the  soul  is  immortal,  in  that  it  believes  in 
immortal  things."  The  human  race,  after  unnumbered  ages, 
"  may  arrive  at  the  absolute  consciousness  of  the  universe, 
and,  in  that  consciousness,  at  the  awakening  of  all  that  has 
lived."  This  is  rather  the  verbiage  of  a  pantheistic  ambigu- 
ity, than  the  light  and  immortality  brought  to  light  in  the 
gospel. 

Of  course,  the  supernatural  and  miraculous  are  denied. 
That  is  his  Etudes  (p.  205):  "  Not  from  any  one  mode  of  ar- 
gument, but  from  the  totality  of  modern  science,  comes  this 
immense  result,  that  there  is  no  supernatural."  '*  All  law  is 
simply  the  law  of  nature,  whether  physical  or  moral."  So 
convinced  is  he  of  this  doo^ma,  that  in  the  Preface  to  the 
same  volume  (p.  11),  he  coolly  remarks:  "The  fundamental 
(piestion  on  which  religious  discussion  turns,  the  question  of 
the  fact  of  a  revelation  and  of  the  supernatural,  I  never  touch 
ujHyn  .  .  .  because  the  discussion  of  such  a  subject  is  not  sci- 


EENAN    ON   MIRACLES.  409 

eiitific,  or  rather,  because  science,  in  its  independence,  sup- 
poses it  to  be  previously  resolved."  He  cannot  be  a  "  contro- 
versialist or  polemic  ;  "  he  has  "  no  taste  or  aptitude  for  such 
work."  "  The  essence  of  criticism  is  in  the  negation  of  the 
supernatural."  But  when  did  science  learn  to  assume  the 
whole  question  in  debate,  and  criticism  to  assert  and  not  prove 
its  principles  ?  Wliat  value  has  such  science  ;  what  author- 
ity has  such  criticism  ?  Positive  science  allows  no  magiste- 
rial dictation.  This  lofty  tone  of  superiority  may  impose 
upon  the  credulous,  and  be  hailed  with  delight  by  the  anti- 
supei-naturalists;  but  it  also  betrays  a  conscious  weakness,  at 
least,  an  unwillingness  to  grapple  with  the  high  questions  in 
debate.  Such  oracles,  contradicting  the  voice  of  humanity, 
denying  the  essential  elements  of  all  religious  faith,  may  make 
a  sensation  by  their  audacity,  but  can  p)roduce  no  rational 
conviction.  They  appeal  to  a  baseless  prejudice  as  really  as 
the  visionary  and  the  fanatic. 

In  the  Preface  of  his  Life  of  Jesus,  M.  Eenan  returns  to 
the  topic,  with  the  assertion,  that  "in  the  name  of  uniform 
experience  we  banish  miracle  from  history."  "  We  maintain 
as  a  principle  of  histoiical  criticism,  that  a  supernatural  nar- 
rative cannot,  as  such,  be  admitted  ;  that  it  always  implies 
credulity  or  imposture ;  and  that  it  is  the  duty  of  the  histo- 
rian to  interpret  it,  and  to  seek  out  what  part  it  contains  of 
truth  and  what  of  ei'ror."  A  miracle,  he  claims,  has  never 
been  proved ;  the  tests  of  modern  science  have  never  been 
app>lied.  But  what  would  tests  avail  with  a  mau,  who,  like 
Eenan,  denies  "any  intelligence  superior  to  that  of  a  man." 
He  could  not  be  convinced,  even  though  one  should  rise  from 
the  dead,  without  abandoning  this  hypothesis.  He  might  see 
a  prodigy  ;  but  he  never  could  recognize  a  miracle — a  work 
of  divine  power,  introducing,  for  a  moral  end,  phenomena 
counteracting  and  surpassing  the  mere  laws  of  nature.  If 
God  be  a  conscious,  personal  intelligence,  he  may  thus  inter- 
vene ;  if  man's  moral  wants  demand  such  a  revelation,  the  in- 
tervention becomes  probable  as  well  as  possible.  If  the  super- 
human work  is  performed  by  one  in  whose  testimony  we  can 


410  eenan's  life  of  jesus. 

confide,  it  becomes  credible.  It  does  not  violate  the  law  of 
causality ;  it  only  interrupts  for  a  wise  end  the  mere  natural 
sequence  of  phenomena.  It  is  nature,  used  by  divine  will  and 
intelligence,  to  promote  a  moral  end.  The  alleged  uniformity 
of  experience  against  the  miraculous  virtually  assumes  the 
point  in  debate.  Natural  sequences  are  not  inviolable.  A 
personal  will  violates  some  of  them  every  day.  An  absolute 
will  may  violate  all  of  them,  and  not  contradict  any  rational 
truth.  The  uniformity  of  nature  is  not  an  absolute  truth  ;  it 
is  not  a  primal  dictum  of  reason.  The  absolute  trath  is  that 
of  causality;  and  the  law  of  causality  is  not  violated  in  a 
miracle.  A  new  cause  introduces  new  effects.  And  as  to 
the  miracles  of  the  Gospels,  we  have,  in  the  testimony  of 
Christ  and  the  apostles,  a  higher  authority  than  that  of  any 
possible  congress  of  savans,  judging  by  the  eye  of  sense.  If 
Christ  can  be  believed,  the  supernatural  lias  appeared  in  his- 
tory. Which  is  more  credible,  the  affirmation  of  Christ,  or 
the  denial  of  Renan  ?  We  know  this  is  not  a  scientific  ques- 
tion ;  but  all  that  Renan  gives  us  on  this  point  is  an  improved 
negative.  And  this  immense  assumption  is  not  only  the  basis, 
but  also  the  constructive  idea,  of  his  reconstruction  of  tlie  Life 
of  Jesus. 

From  the  underlying  principles,  we  pass  to  the  sources  of 
the  work.  Here  again  the  author  spares  himself  much  trou- 
ble, and  the  reader  much  fatigue,  by  telling  us  that  his  plan 
forbids  any  long  dissertations  on  contested  points.  He  as- 
sumes as  j)i'Oved  all  the  contradictions  and  inaccuracies  he 
pleases,  and  never  considers  the  counter  testimony.  Author- 
ities are  cited  in  the  notes ;  though  we  are  often  quite  at  a 
loss  to  trace  the  connection  between  the  text  and  the  evi- 
dence.* Even  where  no  miracle  is  involved  he  sometimes 
"  feels "  that  the  narratives  are  "  legendary,"  as  e.  g.,  in 
Christ's  weeping  over    Jerusalem,  and    the    account  of  the 

*  E.  g.,  Luke  "  exaggerates  the  marvellous,"  iv.  14;  he  "  is  totally  igno- 
rant of  Hebrew,"  i.  31  ;  he  is  "a  democrat  and  Ebionite,"  as  is  seen  in  the 
parable  of  Lazarus !  In  another  place  (p.  xlv.),  he  is  sure  that  some  of 
Luke's  recitals  are  "  invented." 


KENAN    AND    STRAUSS.  411 

penitent  thief.  No  principles  of  criticism  are  stated ;  it  is 
subjective  like  and  dislike,  a  "  gentle  solicitation,"  as  he  says, 
of  texts,  till  they  are  accommodated  to  his  use.  In  wliat 
he  receives  and  what  he  rejects,  he  is  as  arbitrary  and  fickle 
as  a  despot.  Of  strictly  critical  apparatus,  as  scholars  un- 
derstood it,  there  is  scant  use.  Strauss,  Reville,  Nicolas, 
the  Revue  de  Theologie,  are  referred  to  in  a  general  way. 
Strauss  is  his  master  as  to  results,  though  not  in  theory ; 
but  Strauss  is  a  critic,  and  Kenan  is  only  a  literary  dilettante, 
in  comparison.  Of  the  prolific  literature  of  Germany  on  the 
subject,  for  the  last  thirty  years,  he  takes  no  notice.  Nean- 
der,  Lange,  Ebrard,  Hase,  Wieseler,  Ewald,  and  Baur  with 
his  school,  are  not  named.  lie  seems  unconscious  tliat  replies 
have  been  even  attempted  to  some  of  his  most  significant 
conclusions. 

In  his  Etudes  he  distinguishes  between  his  general  view 
of  the  Gospels,  and  the  theories  of  some  recent  critics.  The 
old  rationalism,  he  aifirms,  was  too  dry,  too  negative  in  its  re- 
sults, deficient  in  poetic  sentiment,  and  illogical  in  accepting 
some  supernatural  narratives  and  rejecting  others.  Strauss, 
with  all  his  energetic  destructiveness,  writes  too  much  under 
the  influence  of  "  theological  ideas,"  and  has  not  full  freedom 
of  historical  criticism.  His  Hegelian  idealism,  too,  is  dis- 
pleasing, if  not  unintelligible,  to  the  French  critic.  But  this 
idealism  gave  to  Strauss  a  clearly  defined  scheme  as  the  basis 
of  his  detailed  criticism;  Renan  does  not  feel  the  need  of 
this.  In  point  of  learning,  intellect,  and  consistency,  the 
Teutonic  work  is  immeasurably  superior  to  the  light  and  airy 
French  romance.  The  Gospels  that  have  borne  the  brunt  of 
the  catapult,  need  not  shrink  fj-om  the  flight  of  the  arrow. 
Strauss's  mythological  process,  Renan  concedes,  does  too  much 
violence  to  facts,  leaves  too  little  substance  to  the  Gospels, 
and  puts  their  origin  too  late — in  the  middle  and  last  part  of  the 
second  century.  Renan  believes  that  they  were  all  composed 
in  the  first  century,  and  that  they  contain  "legends"  rather 
than  "  myths ; "  they  are  legendary  biographies,  like  the  lives 
of  Francis  d'Assisi  and  other  media3val  saints.     "  The  evan- 


4:12  eenan's  life  of  jesus. 

srelical"  ideal  was  the  result  of  a  transfio-aration  and  not  of  a 
creation.  He,  of  course,  rejects  the  arbitrary  position  of  B. 
Bauer,  that  they  are  intentional  fabrications.  But  it  is  singu- 
lar that  he  does  not  even  seem  to  be  aware  of  the  ]ieculiar 
character  assigned  to  these  documents  by  the  school  of  Tubin- 
gen, which  regards  them  as  literary  productions,  written  in  the 
post-apostolic  period,  and  representing  great  tendencies,  par- 
ties and  conflicts.  Baur  and  his  followers  have  wrought  out 
this  theory  more  elaborately,  and  with  a  greater  degi-ee  of 
learning  and  criticism,  than  have  been  expended  on  any  other 
infidel  hypothesis.  Yet  there  are  no  indications  that  Renan 
has  any  conception  of  such  a  historical  and  critical  method. 
And,  indeed,  his  whole  view  of  Jesus  and  his  work  is  radi- 
cally different  from  that  of  either  Strauss  or  Baur.  Strauss 
resolves  the  supernatural  into  myths ;  Baur  considers  the 
narrations  as  representing  ideas  and  living  contests ;  both 
bring  down  the  dates  of  the  written  documents  at  least  a 
century  later  than  Christ ;  both  work  out  in  consistency  the 
pantheistic  theory  on  whicli  they  proceed  ;  and  both  thus  tiy 
to  avoid  the  necessity  of  supposing  that  Christ  and  the  apos- 
tles were  deceivers  or  self-deceived.  But  Benan  allows  the 
substance  of  the  Gospels  to  have  the  character  of  contempo- 
raneous authorsliip  and  testimony ;  and  so  brings  himself 
into  direct  contradiction  with  the  authority  of  the  founder  of 
Christianity.  Bepresenting  Christ,  too,  as  the  ideal  of  the 
race,  he  is  obliged  to  attempt  the  difhcult  task  of  reconciling 
his  moral  pre-eminence  with  his  belief  in  miracles,  which 
"  always  imply  imposture  or  fraud."  He  adopts  the  pan- 
theistic scheme  of  the  German  critics,  and  denies  tliat  the- 
ory of  the  origin  and  growtli  of  Christianity,  which  is  alone 
consistent  with  the  scheme.  On  critical  and  philosophical 
grounds,  his  position  is  illogical  and  untenable. 

Five  sources  of  the  Life  of  Jesus  are  enumerated — the 
Four  Gospels,  the  Apocrypha  of  the  old  Testament,  Philo, 
Josephus,  and  the  Talmud.  Philo  he  calls  the  "  older 
brother  "  of  Jesus,  although  he  denies  that  those  words  of 
John,  which  most  nearly  resemble  the  Philonic  speculations. 


KENAN    AND    THE   FOUK    GOSPELS.  413 

contain  the  authentic  teachings  of  Christ ;  nor  does  he 
make  any  account  of  the  gi-eat  difference  between  the  im- 
personal Logos  of  Philo  and  the  living  Word  of  John.  The 
Talmud  furnishes  occasional  illustrations;  most  of  them, 
however,  must  have  been  of  later  origin  (since  Eenan  puts 
the  reduction  of  the  Talmud  between  A.D.  200-500) ;  and 
his  attempt  to  make  out  a  connection  between  the  words  of 
Jesus  and  the  teachings  of  liillel,  lacks  all  historic  confirma- 
tion. Still  more  imaginative  is  the  suarffestion  of  his  rela- 
tion  to  Parsism.  Among  the  Old  Testament  Apocryphal 
books  lie  ranks  the  prophecies  of  Daniel,  in  defiance  of  the 
whole  Jewish  tradition ;  and  tliese  books  themselves  probably 
fall  within  the  first  two  centuries  of  the  Christian  era. 

The  decisive  documents  are  of  course  the  Four  Gospels. 
And  here,  whatever  be  Renan's  inconsistencies,  it  is  worthy 
of  note  that  he  finds  himself  compelled,  by  undeniable  his- 
torical testimony,  to  assign  all  these  palmary  records  to 
the  first  century,  and  to  view  them  as  containing  substan- 
tially the  words,  testimony,  and  authority  of  Jesus  and  his 
immediate  disciples.  This  is  a  concession  of  high  moment ; 
and  the  more  valuable,  as  it  is  adverse  to  his  special  theoi-y 
with  its  inferences.  Luke  is  a  compilation,  carefull}^ 
studied,  written  soon  after  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem, 
(see  xxi.  9,  20,  24,  28,  32,  ch.  xvii.  36) ;  the  same  author 
wrote  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles.  Matthew  and  Mark  have 
not  as  marked  an  individuality,  yet  they  were  certainly 
written  before  Luke.  They  grew  up  in  this  wise.  Mat- 
thew (as  Pajiias  testifies)  gathered  the  sayings  of  Jesus,  and 
Mark,  facts  and  anecdotes.  "  These  little  books  were  sent 
round,  and  everybody  transcribed  on  the  margin  of  his  copy 
the  words  and  parables  which  he  elsewhere  found,  and 
which  touched  his  feelings.  The  most  beautiful  thing  in 
the  world  thus  proceeded  from  an  obscure  and  wholly  popu- 
lar elaboration,"  And  it  is  with  such  a  free  and  easy  story 
that  the  French  critic  disposes  of  the  elaborate  investiga- 
tion of  the  best  critics  and  scholars  about  the  oi-igin  of  the 
Gospels.      Nothing  can  be  more  simple  ;  a  child  might  have 


414  Kenan's  life  of  jesus. 

thought  of  it.  Is  the  highest  criticism  satisfied  with  s"ich  a 
childlike  theory  ?  There  is  no  ground  for  it  in  any  tradition, 
and  it  is  opposed  to  the  well-nigh  nnanimous  verdict  of 
scholars,  believing  and  unbelieving,  who  find  a  plan  and 
order  running  through  these  ""booklets." 

As  to  the  fourth  Gospel,  Renan  admits,  on  the  whole, 
its  authenticity — perhaps  it  is  from  the  "  Presbyter  John  " 
— yet  alleges  that  the  character  of  Jesus  is  retouched 
and  reconstructed,  and  his  discourses  remodelled,  as  Plato 
reports  Socrates.  It  is  a  "  bizarre "  Gospel,  containing 
some  precious  documents  and  facts  that  could  have  come 
only  from  an  eye-witness,  and  stated  much  more  accu- 
rately than  in  the  other  Gospels,  but  where  "  according 
to  us,"  "  the  character  of  Jesus  is  in  many  particulars 
falsified."  It  was  written  after  the  others,  because  in  these 
John  was  not  made  prominent  enough  ;  and  contains  "indi- 
cations which  put  us  on  our  gnard  against  the  good  faith  of 
the  narrator ; "  "  the  interpolations  of  an  ardent  sectary," 
"  abstract  metaphysics,"  &c.  It  betrays  rivalry  with  Peter, 
"and  a  particular  hatred  to  Judas."  Of  the  discourses  here 
reported,  Renan  assures  us,  with  his  self-possessed  divination, 
that  they  are  often  "  pretentious,  tiresome,  badly-written 
tirades,"  stuffed  with  "  the  aridities  of  metaphysics,"  "  shades 
of  abstract  dogmas,"  "  perpetual  argumentations  due  to  the 
phantasy  of  the  artist."  Even  in  the  unmatched  intei'cessory 
prayer  of  John  xvii.,  he  finds  "  factitious'  processes,  and  the 
gloss  of  rhetoric."  In  such  terms  does  he  discourse  of  those 
effulgent  and  gracious  words,  the  light  and  comfort  of  the 
church,  the  wonder  and  study  of  the  most  elevated  and 
spiritual  minds  of  all  times.  This  certainly  illustrates  his  own 
competency  as  a  critic  of  spiritual  things  ;  they  are  to  hiui 
nebulous  and  mystical.  All  that  is  not  to  be  measured  by 
naturalism  is  banished  to  tlie  shades  of  fiction.  He  assumes 
such  insight  as  to  be  able  to  say,  "  that  the  real  words  of  Jesus 
reveal  themselves  as  soon  as  they  are  touched  ;  we  feel  their 
vibrations  in  this  chaos  of  nnequal  traditions."  And  so  he 
assures  ns,  that  these  mystical  opinions  came  not  from  Jesus, 


KENAN  IN  CONFLICT  WITH  MODERN  CRITICISM.  415 

but  from  the  syncretism  and  Gnosticism  of  Asia  Minor, 
which  affected  the  opinions  of  the  narrator.  There  is  an 
"  absohite  contradiction"  between  these  discourses  and  those 
reported  in  the  other  Gospels,  But  yet  M.  Ren  an  considers 
the  sixth  of  John  as  mysterious  as  any,  to  be  in  the  main  a 
true  report;  and  elsewhere  says  that  Jesus  had  no  proper 
sense,  especially  in  the  latter  part  of  his  life,  of  his  own 
"proper  individuality,"  and  personal  distinction  from  the 
Father.  That  is,  he  uses  the  most  elevated  statements  of  the 
Johannine  discourses,  in  an  exaggerated  representation,  while 
declaring  that  they  are  not  authentic.  He  dimly  feels  that 
the  full  character  of  Jesus  cannot  be  drawn,  excepting  by  the 
aid  of  these  sublime  words.  The  alleged  contradiction  van- 
ishes even  in  its  own  representations. 

In  these  results  as  to  the  general  nature  of  the  Gospels, 
especially  the  fragmentary  and  purposeless  character  of 
Matthew  and  Mark,  Renan  is  in  conflict  not  only  with  the 
uniform  tradition  of  the  church,  but  also  with  the  best 
established  results  of  modern  criticism,  both  orthodox  and 
unbelieving.  Eusebius  says  (Hist.  Eccl.  iii.  24),  that  "  Mat- 
thew, having  previously  preached  to  the  Hebrews,  when  he 
was  about  to  go  to  others,  having  committed  to  writing  his 
Gospel  in  his  own  native  tongue,  filled  up  by  his  writing 
what  was  wanting  in  his  presence  to  those  from  whom  he 
set  out."  Papias  affirms  that  Mark  was  Peter's  interpreter, 
and  wrote  accurately  all  that  Peter  mentioned  (Routh,  Pel. 
Sacr.,  i.  13).  Irenseus,  Clement  of  Alexandria,  and  Origen 
confirm  this.  Luke,  says  Irenseus  (Adv.  Haer.,  iii.  1),  was 
"  the  follower  of  Paul,  and  set  down  in  a  book  what  Paul 
used  to  preach."  Each  Gospel,  further,  had  a  particular  ob- 
ject, which  gave  to  it  its  unity.  Matthew  set  forth  to  the 
Hebrews  that  Christ  fulfilled  the  old  dispensation  in  its 
types  and  prophecies.  Mark  addressed  the  Roman  world  in 
the  name  of  Peter,  with  exact  and  graphic  details,  Luke 
wrote  his  Gospel  and  the  Acts  tc;  exhibit  in  order  unto  all 
nations  the  life  of  Jesus  and  the  early  triumphs  of  the 
apostles.     John  filled  up  what  remained,  and  recorded  the 


416  renan's  life  of  jesus. 

deep  mysteries  of  the  person  of  Christ  in  their  most  spiritual 
revelation.  And  thus,  as  Irenasus  says,  "  tlie  creator  Word, 
who  sits  upon  the  cherubim,  wlien  manifested  to  men,  gave 
ns  the  Gospel  in  a  fonrfold  form,  while  it  is  held  together  by 
one  spirit."  Our  author  does  not  debate  the  question  of 
unity  in  variety.  To  the  arguments  of  Ewald  for  John,  he 
makes  no  allusion  ;  nor  yet  to  the  thorough-going  theories  of 
Tubingen,  which  ascribe  to  each  Gospel  a  specific  tendency 
aud  distinctive  character.  He  is  a  quarter  of  a  century 
behind  these  German  researches. 

What  now,  is  the  historic  value  of  these  documents,  and 
how  are  they  to  be  used  ?  *  "  They  are  not  biographies  in  the 
manner  of  Suetonius,  nor  fictitious  legends  in  the  manner  of 
Philostratus ;  they  are  legendary  hiograjthies.  I  willingly 
liken  them  to  the  legends  of  the  Saints,  the  lives  of  Plotinus, 
Proclus,  Isidore,  and  other  works  of  the  same  kind,  where 
historical  truth,  and  the  intention  of  presenting  models  of 
virtue  are  combined  in  different  degrees.  The  inexactitude, 
which  is  one  of  the  traits  of  all  popular  composition,  is  here 
particularly  felt."  How,  then,  are  they  to  be  used  ?  on  what 
critical  principles  ?  What  is  the  method  which  is  to  organ- 
ize this  chaos  into  form  ?  How  extract  the  gold  from  the 
dross?  To  these  vital  questions  we  have  vague  answers. 
If  we  take  what  is  •'  incontestable,"  we  get  only  some  slight, 
"  general  lines  ;  "  there  remain  but  a  few  meagre  facts.  But 
this  would  be  quite  inadequate.  Hence  we  must  have  color- 
ing and  filling  up,  which  if  not  literally  accurate,  ma}'^  yet  be 
"  more  true  than  the  nude  verity,"  truth  "  raised  to  the  height 
of  the  idea."  This  process  will  doubtless  make  a  romance,  if 
not  a  biography  ;  a  panorama  of  dissolving  views,  if  not  a 
veritable  picture  of  real  life.  The  sentiment  and  taste  of  the 
writer  take  the  place  of  the  results  of    criticised  historical 

*  Renan  makes  no  use  of  the  Apocryphal  Gospels,  which  he  rightly  de- 
scribes as  "  flat  and  puerile  amplifications."  He  naively  remarks  that  the 
"  Gospel  according  to  the  Hebrews,"  and  that  "  according  to  the  Egyptians," 
"  in  the  state  in  which  they  come  to  us,"  ''  are  inferior,  in  critical  authority, 
to  the  reduction  of  Matthew,  which  we  have." 


WHAT   M.    EENAN    WILL    ATTEJtIPT.  417 

evidence.  Kenan's  ideal  is  transferred  to  Jesus.  "  Some- 
thing of  divination  and  conjecture  ]nust  be  allowed,"  in 
resuscitating  these  grand  souls  of  the  past.  "  A  grand  life  is 
an  organic  wliole,  which  cannot  be  constructed  bj  the  simple 
agglomeration  of  minute  facts."  The  power  of  genius,  its 
I'apid  intuitions,  its  organizing  quality,  are  required.  Espe- 
cially is  this  needed,  because,  as  he  elsewhere  tells  us  (p.  450). 
"  In  every  line  we  see  a  discourse  of  divine  beauty,  tixed  by 
reporters  who  did  not  compreliend  it,  and  who  substituted 
their  own  ideas  for  the  truths  only  half  grasped."  The  critic 
must  manifestly  be  superior  to  the  apostles,  and  know  more 
perfectly  the  very  mind  and  words  of  Jesus.  To  ensure  the 
utmost  impartiality,  too,  the  historian  "  must  have  once  be- 
lieved in  the  religion,  and  now  no  longer  be  a  believer." 
Scepticism  fully  qualifies  him  for  the  work. 

Illuminated  by  such  insight,  inspired  by  the  principles  of 
naturalism,  and  aided  by  the  resources  of  a  prolific  imagina- 
tion, M.  Itenan  will  attempt  Mdiat  heretofore  has  been  es- 
teemed impossil)le,  a  reconstruction  of  the  living  person  of 
Jesus,  in  its  purity  and  radiance,  in  all  "its  colossal  propor- 
tions," yet  divested  of  the  supernatural  elements,  with 
which  it  has  been  hitherto  associated.  Paulus,  Strauss,  and 
Baur  may  demolish,  but  he  essays  the  higher  work  of  build- 
ing up.  German  criticism  has  left  us,  instead  of  the  living 
Jesus,  a  myth,  or  an  impostor,  or  an  abstract  idea,  or  historic 
tendencies.  But  the  dry  forms  of  criticism  are  to  be  clothed 
upon  with  flesh,  and  breathe  an  immortal  life.  And  such  a 
reconstruction,  after  all,  must  be  one  of  the  decisive  tests  of  the 
possibility  of  the  infidel  hypothesis.  The  power  of  Jesus  is 
too  personal  and  living  to  admit  of  its  being  resolved  into  a 
metaphysical  abstraction,  and  his  character  is  so  pure  and 
sacred,  that  he  cannot  be  called  an  impostor  and  a  charlatan, 
without  provoking  a  spontaneous  indignation.  Can,  thou, 
Jesus  be  depicted  as  the  moral  hero  of  humanity,  the  ideal 
man,  the  Son  of  God,  and  yet  all  his  life  be  interpi-eted  on 
the  principles  of  naturalism,  all  prophecy  and  miracle  denied, 
and  his  celestial  birth  and  divine  honors  swept  from  the  rec- 
27 


418  renan's  life  of  jesits. 

Orel  ?  Can  tlie  supernatural  be  reduced  to  the  accidental,  the 
divine  to  a  sentiment,  the  miraculous  to  a  costume — and  the 
living  personality  remain  unmarred  in  its  purity  and  supreme 
in  its  moral  and  typical  significancy  ?  Can  the  majestic  per- 
son remain  intact,  despoiled  of  all  the  attributes  that  class 
him  with  the  divine,  and  retaining  all  the  perfections  Avhicli 
make  him  the  model  of  the  highest  human  excellence,  at  once 
the  exemplar  and  leader  in  the  moral  history  and  conflicts  of 
our  race  ?  Will  the  result  be  liistory  and  not  invention,  fact 
and  not  fancy,  an  ethical  idea,  or  a  moral  impossibility  ?  The 
Church  has  its  ideal — the  Godman,  living  a  life  perfect  in 
holiness,  combining  all  human  with  all  divine  perfections, 
dying  for  the  redemption  of  the  race,  rising  from  the  dead, 
ascending  to  the  right  hand  of  the  Majesty  on  high,  and 
there  wielding  his  regal  sceptre — the  fulness  of  Him  that 
lilleth  all  in  all.  And  when  a  naturalistic  criticism  can  sub- 
stitute for  this  matchless  person,  another  i-adiant  though 
earthly  form,  equally  consistent  with  facts,  and  equally  har- 
monious in  itself,  then  its  highest  work  will  have  been 
achieved  ;  and  then,  and  not  till  then,  may  it  begin  to  vaunt 
that  Bupernaturalism  has  been  expelled  from  the  annals  of 
the  race.  And  this  is  the  task  which  Renan  undertakes  to 
accomplish. 

The  very  first  line  of  the  biography  proper  is  significant. 
"Jesus  was  born  in  Nazareth,  a  little  city^  of  Galilee."  Mat- 
thew and  Luke  tell  us  that  he  was  born  in  Bethlehem  (Matt. 
ii.  1  ;  Luke  ii.  4, 15).  Luke  iv.  16,  says,  that  he  was  "  brought 
up  "  in  Nazareth  ;  but  this,  says  Eenan,  is  "  a  legend,"  got  up 
to  support  his  Messiahship.  Starting  on  such  a  solid  basis,  the 
narrative  proceeds  without  saying  a  word  of  the  annunciation, 
the  miraculous  conception,  or  the  flight  to  Egypt.  The  "first 
impressions  "  of  the  young  child  are  depicted  in  the  manner 
of  a  skilful  colorist,  and  with  a  minuteness  surpassing  that  of 
the  apocryphal  gosjiels — offering  a  striking  contrast  with  the 
silence  of  the  "sources."  What  the  Gospels  state  is  here 
omitted,  what  they  omit  is  here  described.  It  is  a  supple- 
ment to  the  canon.     Jesus  was  brought   up  in  comfortable 


M.  KENAN  S  SUrPLEMENT  TO  THE  FOUR  GOSPELS.     419 

circumstances  ;  yet  there  was  a  want  of  taste  abont  the  liouse ; 
the  furnitnre  was  scant,  consisting  cliieflj  of  a  mat,  some  bol- 
sters, a  few  earthen  vessels,  and  a  painted  chest — just  as  we 
hnd  them  now  in  Nazareth.  The  family  was  quite  large, 
Jesus  had  several  brothers  and  sisters,  though  even  M.  Renan 
does  not  know  what  became  of  them.  Nazareth  was  a  deli- 
cious sojourn ;  its  environs  are  charming  ;  the  people  are 
amiable,  and  the  women  noted  for  their  beauty,  of  the  Syrian 
type,  marked  "  by  a  grace  full  of  languor."  The  whole  hori- 
zon is  noble,  and  the  pers23ective  radiant.  Reared  in  tliis 
enchanted  circle,  the  cradle  of  the  kingdom  of  God — where 
Christendom  ought  to  erect  a  great  cathedral — Jesus  felt 
the  full  influence  of  those  grand  and  smiling  scenes.  He 
attended  the  common  schools,  but  not  the  higher  instruction 
of  the  scribes,  learning  to  read  and  write,  though  it  is  doubt- 
ful whether  he  knew  the  original  Hebrew,  or  the  Greek. 
His  principles  of  interpretation  were  those  of  the  Targums. 
Yet  he  was  by  no  means  ignorant — though  in  his  times  the 
uneducated  had  the  best  chance  of  being  original.  "  His  mind 
preserved  that  perfect  freshness,  which  is  always  enfeebled  by 
a  varied  culture."  The  Old  Testament  Scriptures  made  a  vivid 
impression  on  him,  especially  Isaiah  and  Daniel,  and  perhaps 
the  Book  of  Enoch.  Of  the  state  of  the  world,  even  the 
neighboring  provinces,  he  knew  nothing ;  and  so  he  might 
more  easily  believe  in  the  visionary  Messianic  predictions. 
He  thought  of  courts  as  places  where  people  "  wore  fine  gar- 
ments." He  believed  in  the  supernatural — though  Lucretius 
had  said  at  Rome  a  century  before  that  there  was  nothing  in 
it ;  he  had  evidently  never  read  Lucretius.  He  even  be- 
lieved in  devils,  and  ascribed  nervous  diseases  to  demons. 
He  also  always  held,  though  science  denies  its  possibility, 
that  he  had  intimate  relations  with  deity — "  beautiful 
errors — the  principle  of  his  force."  He  lived  in  a  world 
of  his  own  (his  family  do  not  seem  to  have  had  much 
regard  for  him),  preoccupied  with  an  idea,  to  which  every- 
thing else  must  be  sacrificed.  It  was  an  heroic  epoch.  The 
Jews,  under  foreign  sway,  were  fermenting  with  the  hopes 


420  eenan's  life  of  .testis. 

and  visions  of  a  Messianic  kingdom.  Jesiis  drank  in  the  inspi- 
ration, untroubled  by  our  modern  egotism  or  scientific  doubts. 
He  had  no  dogmas,  but  only  as2:>i  rat  ions.  "  Those  mountains, 
that  sea,  that  azure  sky,  and  the  broad  plains  .  .  .  were  to 
him  the  certain  symbol,  the  transparent  shadow  of  an  invisible 
\vorld,  of  the  new  heavens."  Galilee  is  the  "  true  court  of 
the  Song  of  Songs,  of  the  melodies  of  the  beloved.''  "■  The 
fairest  tapestry  of  flowers  :  the  most  graceful  of  animals  ; 
mountains  unsurpassed  in  harmony  of  outline ;  fresh  waters, 
and  fruits  ;  the  graceful  shade  of  the  vine  and  the  fig-tree ; 
excellent  viands  and  delicious  wines — all  are  here."  "  Let  the 
austere  Baptist  preach  Repentance  ;  why  should  the  com- 
panions of  the  Bridegroom  fast ;  joy  will  make  a  part  of  the 
kingdom  of  God."  And  so  "  the  nascent  history  of  Christian- 
ity is  a  kind  of  delicious  pastoral;  a  Messiah  at  the  marriage 
festival,  the  courtezan  and  the  good  Zaccheus  called  to  the 
feasts ;  the  founders  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven  a  procession 
of  paranymphs."  Does  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  then,  border 
on  the  realm  of  Yenus  and  Bacchus? 

These  descriptions  of  romantic  scenes  give  an  air  of  sen- 
suous reality  such  as  the  novelist  covets.  The  impression  of 
the  locality  is  heightened  ;  but  the  moral  aspects  of  the  biog- 
raphy are  lowered.  As  in  the  paintings  of  Claude,  the  human 
is  sacrificed  to  the  picturesque.  The  central  figures  are  seen 
in  a  false  liglit.  Such  sentimentalism  about  the  picturesque 
is  a  modern  fancy ;  it  is  unknown  to  Hebrews,  Greeks, 
and  Romans.  Nature  had  no  such  shaping  power  over  the 
visions  of  the  Son  of  Man  ;  rather,  on  the  contrary,  did  he  use 
nature  for  moral  and  spiritual  ends,  to  illustrate  truths  and  to 
show  forth  his  power.  Hence  he  derived  images  of  celestial 
things,  types  of  invisible  realities.  His  relation  to  nature  was 
that  of  its  lord,  and  not  of  its  pupil.  Such  idyls  are  incon- 
sistent with  the  real  spirit  of  the  Gospels. 

This  sentimentalism  is  presented  under  yet  other  aspects, 
wrought  out  with  studied  art,  and  suggesting  by  evanescent 
hints  more  tlian  meets  the  ear.  "An  extremely  delicate 
sentiment   for   woman    did   not   keep  Jesus  from   exclusive 


M.    EENAN  S    WANTON    FANCIES.  421 

devotion  to  his  idea.  He  treated  tliem  like  sisters.  .  .  . 
Only  it  is  probable  that  they  loved  him  rather  than  his 
work ;  he  was,  without  doubt,  more  loved  than  loving. 
Thus,  as  frequently  happens  in  very  elevated  natures,  his 
tenderness  of  heart  was  transformed  into  an  infinite  sweet- 
ness, a  vague  poesy,  a  universal  charm."  "  His  voice  had  an 
extraordinary  gentleness."  "  An  infinite  charm  exhaled 
from  his  person.  His  lovely  character,  and,  doubtless,  one 
of  those  ravishing  figures,  which  sometimes  appear  in  the 
Jewish  race,  made  around  him  a  circle  of  fascination  from 
which  no  one  could  escape,"  He  attracted  prodigals  and  lost 
women  ;  "  these  tender  souls,  finding  in  their  conversion  to 
the  sect  a  means  oi  facile  rehahiUtatio7i,  attracted  themselves 
to  him  with  passion"  (p.  187).  ''  Women,  in  fact,  received  liim 
with  emjpressement.  He  had  with  them  those  reserved  ways, 
which  make  a  very  sweet  union  of  ideas  possible  between 
the  two  sexes"  (p.  151).  "By  his  pure  and  mild  beauty  he 
calmed  the  troubled  organization  of  Mary  of  Magdala." 
Even  the  description  of  the  doleful  night  of  Gethsemane  is 
sullied  by  the  suggestion,  whether  Jesus  may  not  then  have 
recalled  the  memory  "  of  the  young  maidens  who  might  have 
consented  to  love  him  ?  Did  he  curse  his  bitter  destiny 
which  forbade  him  the  joys  conceded  to  all  others?"  This  is 
not  criticism,  it  is  not  history,  it  is  the  sheer  fiction  of  a  sen- 
suous fancy,  outraging  the  undefiowered  sanctity  of  the  only 
celestial  virtue  this  world  has  known.  It  is  not  Jesus,  but 
his  biographer,  wlio  is  degraded  by  these  wanton  fancies. 

Similar  levity  is  elsewhere  found  in  this  romance.  Our  Lord 
is  called  "  the  charming  doctor."  Some  of  the  most  affecting 
incidents,  containing  the  deepest  spiritual  truths,  are  inter- 
preted in  the  sense  of  mere  naturalism.  When  Jesus  says  to 
the  Pharisees,  '  Publicans  and  harlots  come  into  the  kingdom 
of  God  before  you,"  this  is  connnented  on  as  a  cutting  satire 
on  them  "  for  not  following  the  good  example  of  \\\Qjilles  de 
joieP  When  he  says  to  the  sons  of  Zebedee,  '  I  am  not  come 
to  destroy  souls,  but  to  save;'  this  is  "a  fine  irony."  He 
speaks  to  the  woman  taken  in  adultery,  "with  the  fine  raillery 


422  eenan's  life  of  jesus. 

of  a  man  of  the  world."  Spiritual  conflicts,  repentance  and 
faith  pass  for  nothing.  Like  a  man  of  the  world,  the  author 
interprets  with  the  eye  of  sense,  explaining  the  spiritual  by 
the  natural.  There  are  constant  repetitions  about  Christ's 
"  amiable  pleasantries,"  "  secret  hnnior,"  "  fine  railleries," 
"  exquisite  mockeries  and  malign  provocations ;  "  balanced  by 
allusions  to  his  "  insipid  argumentation "  (in  respect  to  the 
resurrection,  Matt.  xxii.  23) ;  "  the  feebleness  of  his  argu- 
ments, as  judged  by  the  Aristotelian  logic;"  and  his  "'finesse 
in  extricating  himself  from  embarrassing  questions."  His 
denunciations  of  the  Pharisees  are  described  as  "  that  Nessus 
tunic  of  ridicule,"  "  which  he  wove  with  divine  artifice," 
"  cliefs-d'oeuvre  of  high  raillery,"  "  traits  worthy  of  the  Son 
of  God  ;  only  a  god  knows  how  to  kill  after  this  sort." 
Jesus,  it  seems,  was  satirical,  but  not  logical. 

Upon  the  whole,  in  this  earlier  period  of  his  ministry,  Jesus 
is  described  as  a  simple,  pure  enthusiast,  absorbed  in  ideal 
visions.  These  were  "  chaste  days,  in  which  the  voice  of  his 
Father  resounded  in  his  bosom  with  the  clearest  tones. 
Then,  for  some  months,  perhaps  a  year,  God  truly  dwelt  upon 
the  earth."  lie  proclaimed  a  pure  religion,  such  as  we  find 
iu  the  sermon  on  the  Mount.  "  True  Christianity  was  then 
founded,  and  never  more  perfect  than  at  this  moment.  Jesus 
added  to  it  afterwards  nothing  enduring.  What  do  I  say  ? 
In  one  sense  he  compromised  it ;  for  every  idea  to  succeed 
has  need  of  sacrifice  ;  we  never  come  immaculate  out  of  the 
strife  of  life."  "  Without  miracles  could  he  have  converted 
the  world  ? "  "  Had  he  died  at  this  stage  of  his  career  there 
woidd  not  have  been  in  his  life  the  page  which  now  wounds 
us  ;  greater  in  the  eyes  of  God,  he  w^ould  have  been  unknown 
to  man,  lost  in  the  crowd  of  great  unknown  souls,  the  best  of 
all ;  the  truth  would  not  have  been  spread  abroad,  nor  the 
world  benefited  by  the  immense  moral  superiority  with 
which  his  father  had  endowed  him."  Hillel  taught  as  pure 
a  morality  as  Jesus ;  but  Hillel  did  not  found  Christianity.  To 
found  a  religion,  there  must  be  miracles  and  a  Messiah.  As 
this  is  impossible,  the  claim  thereto  involves  imposture  or 


UNE    CRITIQUE   MESQUINE.  423 

delusion.  Therefore  the  Son  of  God  must  fall  from  his  ideal 
excellence,  if  he  is  to  be  the  head  of  a  new  religion.  Tlie 
pure  moralist  is  to  be  transformed  into  an  exorcist,  a  thau- 
maturge, a  false  Messiah,  The  pastoral  ends,  the  tragedy 
begins. 

This  whole  conception  of  an  abrupt  change  in  the  part 
that  Christ  was  enacting  is  a  mere  imagination  of  the  artist, 
dishonoring  Jesus,  and  false  to  history.  It  is  the  product  of 
fancy  steeped  in  the  shai'p  contrasts  of  the  drama.  It  is  a 
desperate  attempt  to  construct  the  life  of  a  supernatural 
being  on  naturalistic  principles.  This  necessarily  involves 
the  sacrifice  of  Christ's  purity.  Yet  that  sacrifice  must  not 
be  so  entire  as  to  make  of  the  hero  a  charlatan  and  an  impos- 
tor, lie  must  then  be  depicted  as  the  victim  of  necessity, 
as  drawn  into  the  plot  against  his  will.  Of  this  there  are  no 
indications  or  hints  in  history  itself.  Hence  the  facts  must 
be  set  in  new  lights,  and  testimony  defied.  Texts,  as  the 
author  says,  must  be  "  gently  solicited,"  until  they  suit  his 
theories,  and  reproduce  his  ensemble.  But  is  not  this  what 
Renan  is  fond  of  calling  une  critique  mesquine  f  The  unity  of 
Christ's  life  is  destroyed.  We  have  two  persons  and  not 
one  ;  a  Jesus  of  ideal  purity,  and  a  Jesus  sullied  by  the  stains 
of  earth ;  the  one  moral  and  upright,  the  other  a  man  of  arti- 
fices and  collusions  ;  the  one  lost  in  divine  reveries,  the  other 
inveigled  in  the  strife  and  deceptions  of  life ;  the  one  joyous 
and  simple,  the  other  severe  and  violent ;  the  one  an  ideal 
with  no  historic  power,  the  otlier  the  man  who  moved  the 
world  by  fictitious  miracles  and  visionary  claims  to  an  unreal 
Messiahship.  And  yet  he  would  have  us  believe  that  such  a 
dual  Jesus  is  the  "  greatest  of  men,"  whose  "  religion  con- 
tains the  secret  of  the  future  !  " 

M.  Kenan  dates  the  beginning  of  this  phase  of  Christ's 
career  from  the  time  of  his  intercourse  with  John  Baptist. 
He  not  only  deliberately  inverts  the  whole  relation  between 
them,  as  given  by  the  Evangelists,  but  he  says  that  their 
statements  are  "  an  after  invention  "  (p.  202).  This  is  cer- 
tainlv  an  odd  sort  of  criticism,  attributing  to  the  New  Testa.- 


424  Kenan's  life  of  jesus. 

merit  writers  such  alterations  as  he  himself  makes,  as  if  they, 
and  not  he,  were  writing  to  prove  a  theory.  He  represents 
Jesus  as  following"  tlie  Baptist's  example,  learning  from  him 
how  to  guide  a  popular  movement.  There  is  a  kind  of  livalry 
between  them  ;  Christ  "  imitates "  John,  and  "  recognizes 
him  as  his  superior."  John's  influence  was  more  "hurt- 
ful than  useful."  The  ideas  of  Jesus  about  the  king- 
dom of  God  were  changed ;  it  is  no  longer  a  mere  ideal, 
but  it  is  to  be  set  at  work.  ISTo  more  a  "  delicious  moralist," 
he  became  "  a  transcendent  revolutionist ;  "  or  rather  he  was 
both  an  anarchist  and  an  idealist.  Tie  is  the  Son  of  Man 
foretold  by  Daniel,  and  is  to  rescue  the  world  from  the 
dominion  of  Satan.  He  gave  himself  uj)  to  fantastic,  apoca- 
lyptic dreams,  and  allowed  himself  to  be  called  Messiah, 
though  at  first  somewhat  "  embarrassed  "  by  it.  Henceforth 
"  he  marched  on,  possessed  by  an  idea  more  and  more  impe- 
rious and  exclusive,  with  a  kind  of  fatal  impassibility,  in  the 
way  traced  by  his  astonishing  genius  and  the  circumstances 
of  the  times."  By  the  lake  of  Tiberias,  in  Bethsaida  and 
Capernaum,  he  found  simple  fishermen  and  villagers,  who 
readily  credited  his  words.  By  "  innocent  artifices  "  he  in- 
duced, for  example,  Nathaniel,  Peter,  and  the  Samaritan 
woman,  to  believe  that  he  knew  the  secrets  of  their  lives.  The 
people  thought  that  he  talked  on  the  mountains  with  God,  and 
that  angels  ministered  to  him.  They  gathered  around  him,  and 
he  opened  his  mouth  in  jjarables.  They  were  f)Oor  ;  and  he 
told  them  that  rich  people  went  to  hell,  and  that  the  reign  of 
the  poor  was  at  hand.  The  kingdom  of  God  is  for  them  and 
for  children,  "  for  heretics  and  schismatics,  publicans  and  sin- 
ners. Happy  they  who  share  in  this  divine  illusion  !  "  He  dis- 
dained everything  but  the  religion  of  the  heart ;  when  he 
told  the  Samaritan  woman,  that  "  the  Father  was  to  be  wor- 
shipped in  spirit  and  in  truth,"  "  he  was  truly  the  son  of  God," 
"  speaking  for  the  first  time  in  the  world  the  words  on  which 
will  rest  the  edifice  of  eternal  religion."  * 

*  In  this  narrative  Renan  rejects  a  verse  out  of  the  middle  of  it,  Jolm  v. 
21,  because  Christ  there  says,  "  religion  is  of  the  Jews  "  (p.  234). 


JESUS    AND   HIS    AIM   ACCOKDING   TO    KENAN.  425 

The  first  preaching  of  Jesus  at  Jerusalem  (descrihed  in 
ch.  xiii.,  which  gives  a  vivid  picture  of  the  state  of  parties  in 
that  city),  resulted  in  a  failure,  and  he,  by  reaction,  became 
"  a  revolutionist  of  the  first  degree."  The  law  must  be  abol- 
ished, and  he  is  to  do  the  work.  The  kingdom  of  God  is 
to  come,  but  with  violence.  He  may  die  in  the  attempt,  but 
will  return  in  glory  with  the  angels.  He  allowed  himself  to 
be  surrounded  with  a  halo  of  legends ;  fictitious  genealogies 
made  him  to  be  the  Son  of  David.  A  cycle  of  fables,  "  the 
fruit  of  a  grand,  spontaneous  conspiracy,"  invested  him  with 
transcendent  attributes.  Though  he  did  not  declare  himself  to 
be  a  literal  "  incarnation  of  God,"  yet  "  he  did  not  have  a  very 
clear  notion  of  his  own  personality.  He  is  his  father ;  his 
Father  is  he.''  He  assumed  royal  prerogatives — to  forgive 
sins,  to  be  the  judge  of  the  world,  "  There  was  to  him  nosu- 
pernaturalisn],  for  there  was  no  nature.  Intoxicated  with 
the  infinite  love,  he  forgot  the  heavy  chain  which  holds  the 
spirit  captive,  and  leaped  with  a  bound  the  abyss,  for  most 
men  impassable,  which  the  mediocrity  of  the  human  facul- 
ties traces  between  man  and  God  "  (pp,  246-7).  H  Kenan 
is  here  describing  a  mere  man,  from  the  natui-alistic  point  of 
view,  is  he  not  describing  an  enthusiast,  a  fanatic  ?  All  his 
I'hetoric  cannot  gloss  the  fatal  insinuation,  that  Christ  was 
dazed  and  giddy.  And  the  whole  view  is  unreal  and  false. 
No  iiuman  being  was  ever  more  conscious  of  a  distinct  moral 
personality  than  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  And  the  mode  in  which 
Renan  still  tries  to  rescue  his  character  from  obloquy,  in  the 
face  of  these  fatal  pretensions,  is  equally  uuwortliy.  He  says 
that  in  such  matters  we  must  not  look  for  "  logic  and  se- 
quence," Jesus  needed  to  be  accredited  ;  his  disciples  were 
enthusiastic,  and  clamorous  for  signs.  "  For  us,"  adds  the 
writer,  "  profoundly  serious  races,  conviction  means  sincerity 
with  oneself.  But  such  sincerity  has  not  much  meaning 
among  the  orientals,  little  accustomed  to  the  refinements  of 
the  critical  spirit.  Good  faith  and  imposture  are  words, 
which,  to  our  rigid  conscience,  are  as  opposed  as  logical  con- 
tradictories."    "History  is  impossible,  if  we  do   not   admit 


426  Kenan's  life  of  jesus. 

that  there  are  different  degrees  of  sincerity."  "  All  great 
things  are  done  by  the  people ;  the  people  can  be  led  only 
by  lending  ourselves  to  their  ideas."  "  He  who  talces  human- 
ity with  its  illusions,  and  seeks  to  act  on  it  and  with  it,  should 
not  be  blamed."  "  We  shall  have  a  right  to  be  severe  on 
such  men,  when  we  have  ac^complished  as  much  wath  our 
scruples,  as  they  with  their  lies."  In  another  passage  (p.  283) 
he  suggests,  that  these  apocalyptic  fancies  made  Jesus  "  strong 
against  death,  and  sustained  him  in  a  struggle,  to  which 
without  this  he  would,  perhaps,  have  been  unequal."  In 
passing  judgment  on  such  a  representation,  there  is  no  need 
of  circumlocution  or  euphemisms.  It  is  utterly  disgraceful 
and  disingenuous.  It  assails  the  very  honesty  and  credibility 
of  Jesus.  It  makes  success  the  standard.  It  is  the  essence 
of  Jesuitism.  The  apology  is  as  superficial  as  it  is  ignomin- 
ious. The  worst  ethics  of  the  French  stage  cannot  surpass 
it.  Nobody  but  a  Frenchman  could,  after  this,  still  idolize 
his  hero  as  the  perfection  of  humanity.  And  in  the  midst  of 
such  profligate  representations,  to  inteiject  phrases  about 
"  our  profound  seriousness,"  "  rigid  conscience,"  and  "  abso- 
lute sincerity,"  in  contrast  with  the  delusions  and  falsity  at- 
tributed to  Jesus,  is  to  carry  to  its  height  a  base  invention, 
from  which  every  right-minded  man  will  instinctively  recoil, 
and  which  every  true  believer  in  Christ  will  stamp  as  blas- 
phemy. Better  for  Jesus,  as  a  mere  man — a  thousandfold 
better,  to  have  died  unknown,  than  to  have  lent  himself  to 
impostures  which  he  must  have  known  to  be  false,  to  a  con- 
spiracy founded  on  a  lie  or  a  hallucination. 

But  this  is  not  all,  nor  the  worst.  The  part  of  the  Mes- 
siah made  it  necessary  that  Jesus  sliould  also  give  himself 
forth  as  "  an  exorcist  and  a  thaumaturge."  Charlatanry 
must  complete  the  work  begun  in  hallucination.  Renan 
freely  confesses  that  Christ  and  his  apostles  believed  in  botli 
prophecy  and  miracle,  as  the  only  evidence  of  a  supernatui-al 
commission.  The  prophecies  he  passes  over  lightly,  with  his 
usual  facile  criticism,  as  casual  and  verbal,  instances  of  "  arti- 
fices of  style  rather  than   serious  argumentation."     Miracles 


M.    EENAn's   view    of   JESUS    AS   THAUMATURGE.  4:27 

were  generally  expected  by  both  Jews  and  Gentiles.  Faith 
and  prayer  were  thought  to  have  power  over  nature.  Jesus 
shared  in  tliese  views;  "in  the  access  of  his  heroic  will,  he 
thought  himself  all-powerful."  But  we  must  not  judge  him 
"  too  severely,"  by  our  "  modern  "  rules  and  higher  science. 
He  and  his  disciples  were  in  a  state  of  "  poetic  ignorance,"  at 
least  "  as  complete  as  that  of  St.  Clara  and  the  tres  sooiiP 
Yet,  the  number  of  alleged  miracles  may  have  been  exagger- 
ated. "  Scientific  medicine  "  had  not  found  out,  "  that  the 
contact  of  an  exrpiisite  person  is  often  worth  all  the  resources 
of  pharmacy."  Exorcism  was  frequently  practised  ;  and  the 
possessed  were  "  nervous  people."  Some  things,  too,  seem  to 
M.  Kenan,  in  defiance  of  the  Scriptural  testimony,  to  indicate 
that  Jesus  "  became  a  thaumaturge  only  late  and  against  his 
will ;  "  "  the  r(>/t?  at  times  is  disagreeable  to  him."  In  one 
passage  (p.  2G4),  he  speaks  of  the  "  hlzarrerie  "  of  Jesus  in 
wishing  to  keep  his  miracles  secret ;  in  another  (p.  322),  of 
his  not  doing  them  in  public,  because  he  "  reserved  for  simple 
souls  the  means  good  oidy  for  them."  But  yet  he  grants, 
that  "acts  which  would  now  be  considered  as  signs  of  illusion 
or  madness  had  a  large  place  in  the  life  of  Jesus.  Must  we 
then,"  he  asks,  "  sacrifice  to  this  ungrateful  side  the  sublime 
side  of  such  a  life  ?  "  But  how  can  we  help  it  ?  Who  that  is 
"  profoundly  serious "  and  "  absolutely  conscientious,"  can 
echo  the  words  of  our  author,  "  the  exorcist  and  the  thauma- 
turge are  fallen,  but  the  religious  reformer  will  live  forever  " 
— when  the  i-efoi-mer  and  thaumaturge  are  one  and  the  same  ? 
It  may  require  faith  to  believe  in  the  Jesus  of  the  Gospels, 
but  it  certainly  requires  credulity  to  believe  in  the  Jesus  of 
Henan.  In  no  particular  case  does  he  attemj^t  a  detailed 
explanation,  excepting  in  that  of  the  raising  of  Lazarus  (pp. 
359,  360).  Jesus  had  been  ill  received  at  Jerusalem,  his 
cause  seemed  wavering ;  some  desired  manifestation  was 
needed:  his  followers  demanded  a  striking  miracle.  "He 
was  in  this  impure  city,  7io  longer  himself.  His  conscience, 
by  the  fault  of  others,  and  not  by  his  own,  had  lost  something 
of  its  primitive  limpidity.     Despairing,  pushed  to  the  M'all, 


428  Kenan's  life  of  jesus. 

lie  no  longer  belonged  to  himself.  His  mission  imposed  it 
on  liim,  and  he  obeyed  the  torrent."  The  family  at  J3ethany 
adored  him,  would  do  anything  for  him :  Lazarus  may  have 
had  himself  entombed  (and  these  tombs  contained  quite 
comfortable  niches);  Jesus  appeared,  called  Lazarus — and 
"  he  came  forth."  "  Faith  knows  no  other  law  than  interest 
in  what  it  believes  true."  Lazarus  and  his  sisters  projected 
this  pious  fraud  :  Jesus  consented  :  "  Besides,  death  was  in  a 
few  days  to  restore  to  him  his  divine  liberty,  and  tear  him 
away  from  the  fatal  necessities  of  a  part,  which  every  day 
became  more  exacthig,  more  difhcult  to  be  sustained."  This 
requires  no  comment.  The  Son  of  Man  is  playing  the  part 
of  an  impostor. 

We  need  not  follow  out  minutely  the  close  of  this  awful 
tragedy  of  a  sublime  genius  and  hero,  brought  under  the  full 
power  of  these  terrible  delusions,  and  making  his  descent  to 
a  pagan  hades,  to  rise  again  only  in  the  belief  of  a  credulous 
church.  No  literary  genius,  no  graphic  pencil,  can  surpass 
the  grand  simplicity  of  the  gospels,  or  do  more  than  borrow 
from  their  unmatched  narratives.  Jesus  presses  onward  to 
his  fate,  surrounded  by  the  apocalyptic  visions,  of  what  Reuau 
calls  "  the  fantastic  kingdom  of  God."  lie  loses  gradually 
"  all  sense  of  individuality ; "  his  self-abnegation  becomes 
mystical  and  fatal.  In  the  Last  Supper,  the  ideal  became  so 
prominent  and  absorbing, "  that  the  body  counted  for  nothing ; 
his  disciples  were  to  eat  his  flesh  and  drink  his  blood."  Be- 
lieving in  the  approaching  end  of  the  world,  he  taught  the 
most  complete  asceticism  ;  "  the  cessation  of  generation  was  a 
sign  of  the  kingdom  of  God."  "  Despising  the  same  limits  of 
human  nature,  he  demanded  of  his  disciples  that  they  should 
love  only  him,  live  only  for  him."  A  "fire  was  devouring  the 
roots  of  his  life."  lie  was  "no  longer  the  fine  and  joyous 
moraUst  of  other  days,  but  a  sombre  giant,  whom  a  grandiose 
presentiment  threw  more  and  more  out  of  the  pale  of  human- 
ity "  (308).  Sometimes,  says  our  author,  we  are  tempted  to 
believe  that  he  deliberately  formed  the  pui-pose  of  letting 
himself  be  killed,  as  a  means  of  forwardino;  his  kin<rdom :  his 


THE   DEFAMEK    OF   JESUS    THE    APOLOGIST    OF   JUDAS.       420 

death  was  to  be  a  sacrifice  to  save  the  workl.  "  His  reason 
at  times  seemed  troubled ;  the  grand  vision  of  the  kingdom 
of  God,  flaming  before  his  eyes,  made  him  giddy."  "  Pressing 
and  imperative,  he  allowed  no  opposition."  "  His  native  gen.- 
tleness  seemed  to  have  abandoned  him  ;  he  became  rude  and 
bizarre."  "It  was  time  for  death  to  come  and  loose  the  knot 
of  a  situation  of  the  extremest  tension,  deliver  him  from  the 
impossibilities  of  a  path  which  had  no  outlet,  and,  by  rescu- 
ing him  from  a  too  prolonged  trial,  introduce  him,  henceforth 
sinless,  into  a  heavenly  peace." 

He  must  justify  the  proverb,  that  a  prophet  is  not  to  die 
out  of  Jerusalem,  and  so  he  goes  again  to  the  city  of  David, 
provoking  hostility  by  his  terrible  denunciations  of  the  rulei'S. 
Then  comes  the  desperate  attempt  to  revive  his  power  by  the 
miracle  at  the  tomb  of  Lazarus.  In  the  anguish  of  Gethsem- 
ane  "  perhaps  he  doubted  about  his  work.  Terror  and  liesi- 
tation  laid  hold  of  him,  and  threw  him  into  a  faintness  of  spirit 
worse  than  death  itself;  "  but  soon  his  "divine  nature  reas- 
serted its  supremacy."  He  was  betraj^ed  by  Judas,  whose 
conduct  showed  more  "  maladresse  than  perversity  " — the  de- 
famer  of  Jesus  may  well  be  the  apologist  of  Judas.  The 
scenes  of  the  trial  and  judgment  are  skilfully  grouped  and 
narrated.  Before  Pilate,  there  is  "  the  grand  equivoke  " 
about  his  being  a  king.  The  final  cry,  'My  God,  my  God, 
why  hast  thou  forsaken  me?'  may  mean,  "that  he  repented 
of  suffering  for  so  vile  a  race."  But  on  the  cross  "  he  com- 
menced his  divine  life."  "  Thy  work  is  finished  ;  tliy  divinity 
is  founded  ;  "  "  thou  art  so  far  the  corner-stone  of  humanity, 
that  to  tear  thy  name  from  the  world  shall  be  to  shake  it  fi-om 
its  foundations.  Between  thee  and  God  men  will  not  distin- 
guish." Did  he  rise  again  from  the  dead  ?  Penan  defers 
the  full  consideration  of  this  question,  and  only  says,  tliat  "the 
powerful  imagination  of  Mary  of  Magdala  here  played  a  chief 
part.  Divine  power  of  love  !  sacred  moments  when  the  hal- 
lucination of  a  visionary  gives  to  the  world  a  resuscitated 
God  !  "  But  it  is  not  by  sentiment,  and  exclamation  points, 
and  vague  rhetoric,  that  such  a  question  can  be  answered. 


430  renan's  life  of  jesus. 

Is   the  Christian    church  founrled  on  tlie  dreams  of  a  vis- 
ionary ? 

M.  Eenan  attempts  in  conchision  a  statement  of  tlie  ele- 
ment of  the  pure  religion  founded  by  Jesus,  rejecting  ad  lihi- 
tuiii  all  that  is  mysterious  and  supernatural.  In  none  of  its 
doctrines  as  here  described,  is  it  above  the  measure  of  natu- 
ral religion  ;  and  even  the  doctrine  of  immortality  is  fatally 
obscured.  In  the  teachings  he  praises  there  is  little  that  is 
specific,  those  that  he  rejects  have  given  life  to  Christianity. 
What  he  insists  on  is,  the  right  of  all  to  worship  God,  involv- 
ing in  germ  the  separation  of  church  and  state  ;  the  final 
victory  of  tlie  poor  and  oppressed  ;  "  the  empire  of  souls." 
This  religion  has  no  dogmas,  but  is  full  of  sentiment,  lie 
accepts  of  Christ's  teachings  only  certain  abstract  and  vague 
phrases,  and  rejects  the  concrete  truth.  By  such  a  process, 
any  one  might  detect  an  "  eternal  beauty "  in  the  wildest 
dream  of  the  veriest  fanatic.  A  canon  for  such  interpretation 
is  suggested  in  one  passage:  "A  sort  of  majestic  divination 
seems  to  have  kept  Jesus  in  a  sublime  vagueness,  embracing 
at  once  different  orders  of  truth."  Thus  the  definite  may 
easily  be  resolved  into  the  indefinite.  The  actual  is  subli- 
mated into  the  ideal,  and  this  ideal  is  to  be  worshipped. 
It  is  contained  in  a  very  few  vague  words  :  "  absolute  purity," 
"  liberty,"  "  royalty  of  spirit,"  "  perfect  idealism  ;  "  this  is ''  the 
kingdom  of  the  ideal  God  " — even  so,  of  the  ideal  God.  The 
foundation  of  such  a  kingdom  was  the  peculiar  work  of  Jesus. 
Only  a  man  "of  colossal  proportions"  could  have  given  it 
impulse  and  authority.  Yet, "  the  honest  and  sincere  Marcus 
Aurelius,  the  humble  and  mild  Spinoza,  not  having  believed 
in  miracles,  were  exempt  from  some  of  the  errors  which 
Jesus  shared."  Our  modern  "  delicacy  "  and  "  absolute  sin- 
cerity, have  given  us  a  new  ideal  of  morality."  But  still  Jesus 
is  "an  inexhaustible  principle  of  moral  renovation."  We 
may  call  him  "  divine,  in  the  sense  that  he  caused  the  race  to 
take  the  greatest  step  towards  the  divine."  "  In  him  is  con- 
densed all  that  is  good  and  elevated  in  our  nature.  He  was 
not  impeccable ;  he  conquered  the  same  passions  which  we 


M.  Kenan's  romance  will  have  its  run.  431 

combat ;  no  angel  of  God  comforted  him,  excepting  his 
good  conscience ;  no  Satan  tempted  him,  excepting  that 
which  each  one  bears  in  his  heai-t."  "  There  never  was  a 
man,  excepting  perhaps  Sal^hja-Muni,  who  to  such  a  degree 
cast  under  foot  family,  the  joys  of  tlie  world,  all  temporal 
care."  Whatever  else  may  happen,  "Jesus  will  not  be  sur- 
passed. His  worship  will  forever  be  rejuvenated  ;  his  legend 
will  call  forth  tears  without  end  ;  his  sufferings  will  melt  the 
best  of  hearts ;  all  the  ages  will  proclaim,  that  among  the 
sons  of  men,  no  one  has  been  born  greater  than  Jesus." 

In  such  eulogy  ends  this  romantic  Gospel.  Such  praise 
throughout  the  work,  is  the  wonted  and  artistic  refrain  of  the 
ingenious  master  of  style,  who  knows  the  full  power  of 
contrasts  in  heightening  the  effect,  and  whose  most  subtle 
and  envenomed  suggestions,  qualifying  the  purity  of  Jesus, 
are  always  followed  by  a  lofty  paean,  proclaiming  a  pagan 
worship  of  an  earthly  hero,  all  whose  supernatural  claims  are 
rejected,  and  whose  character  is  sullied  by  the  worshipper 
himself. 

Such  a  romance,  constructed  with  a  view  to  striking  con- 
trasts, will  have  its  run  with  those  who  prefer  the  aesthetic 
to  the  ethical,  and  who  are  sentimental  in  their  tastes  and 
naturalistic  in  their  philosophy.  It  is  eagerly  caught  up  in 
France  and  Italy,  where  there  is  no  Biblical  criticism,  and 
where  the  merely  literary  i3ublic  are  easily  seduced  by  graces 
of  style  and  exquisite  descrijjtions,  and  are  not  at  all  averse 
to  furtive  innuendoes.  Beyond  the  Rhine,  German  scholars 
unite  in  the  opinion,  that  it  is  superficial  in  its  criticism  and 
its  philosophy.  Frenchmen,  for  the  most  part,  know  only  the 
alternative  of  the  Roman  Catholic  dogma  or  infidelity.  But 
Protestantism  has  developed  both  philosoi)hical  insight  and  a 
higher  critical  spirit.  It  appeals  to  conscience  and  the  reli- 
gious sense.  No  Protestant,  in  Germany,  England  or  Amer- 
ica, can  retain  faith  in  such  a  contradictory  hero  as  Renau 
depicts.  Only  pantheism  and  sentimentalism  combined  can 
imao;ine  or  venerate  such  an  ideal. 

The  value  of  the  work  as  a  critical   reconstruction  of  the 


432  eenan's  life  of  jesus. 

life  of  Jesns  is  nullified  by  its  enormous  and  undebated  pos- 
tulate of  the  impossibility  of  the  supernatural.  Here  it  is 
more  dogmatic  than  any  dogmatics  of  the  schools,  assuming 
that  the  entire  faith  of  the  race  has  been  an  illusion.  It  is, 
to  use  a  German  phrase,  a  "  tendencj'-book,"  As  really  as  the 
Clementina  were  written  in  the  interest  of  Peter,  is  this  work 
composed  in  the  interest  of  pure  naturalism.  And  even  in 
respect  to  the  details,  there  is  no  sucli  criticism  as  is  found  in 
Strauss  and  Baur.  No  new  difficulties  are  urged  ;  and  all  the 
old  discrepancies  are  taken  for  granted.  It  pretends  to  be 
impartial,  and  it  ignores  all  that  has  been  said  for  the  historic 
credibility  of  the  Gospels  ;  it  claims  to  be  uncontroversial, 
and  means  by  this,  that  the  defenders  of  Christianity  are 
no  longer  worthy  of  being  heard.  The  author  is  entirely 
free  and  easy  in  handling  his  sources,  taking  what  suits 
him,  rejecting  what  he  does  not  fancy,  showing  much 
sleight  of  hand  in  the  shuffling  of  texts,  and  ending  all  de- 
bate by  an  a23peal  to  his  power  of  divination.  In  gen- 
ei-al,  he  pays  but  slight  heed  to  the  chronology  of  the 
events,  and  the  difficult  questions  here  involved,  not  even  in 
the  case  of  the  last  week  of  our  Lord's  life.  He  assumes, 
without  autliority,'that  Jesus  liad  a  band  of  disciples  before  he 
was  baptized  of  John;  that  he  had  sisters  married  at  JN'azarcth ; 
that  Peter  had  children,  and  the  like.  He  implies  that,  during 
the  life  of  Jesus,  there  was  community  of  goods  among  the  dis- 
ciples. He  knows  that  John  was  not  at  the  cross,  though  John 
says  lie  was  (p.  422) ;  he  accepts  (p.  191)  a  spurious  addition  of 
Marcion  to  Lidce,  because  it  gives  him  a  chance  to  sneer  about 
Christ's  leading  women  and  children  astray  from  their  fami- 
lies. It  is,  also,  a  literary  and  not  a  philosophical  work.  Were 
the  Avritcr  more  learned  and  more  scientific  he  could  not  be 
so  oracular.  His  general  principles  are  shadowy  and  intan- 
gible. Words  and  phrases  take  the  place  of  definite  concep- 
tions. The  descriptions  are  beguiling,  but  the  narrative  lacks 
moral  depth.  Even  in  a  heathen  point  of  view,  Kenan  is  an 
Epicurean  dashed  with  Cynicism  rather  than  a  Stoic.  His 
love  of  satire  and  irony,  refined  sarcasms, finesse  and  equivoke, 


FATAL  DEFECTS  OF  THE  BOOK.  433 

and  his  dexterous  allusions  to  forbidden  thoughts,  stimu- 
late the  fancy  at  the  expense  of  candor  and  truth.  The  book 
cannot  be  read  without  the  risk  of  marring  the  moral  sense. 

Another  fatal  defect  impairs  and  clogs  the  portraiture.  For 
M.  Renan  not  only  denies  the  supernatural,  but  he  is  blind  to 
the  spirituality  of  Christ's  character  and  work.  His  idealism 
is  cloudland  and  dreamland,  as  far  removed  from  the  spiritu- 
ality of  the  Gospels  as  is  materialism  itself;  in  fact,  his  ideal- 
ism does  not  rise  even  to  the  height  of  the  Greek  insight. 
Plato  had  a  loftier  vision  of  the  world  of  ideas,  and  Socrates  a 
stricter  moral  consciousness.  Christian  spirituality  is  neither 
an  airy  abstraction,  nor  modern  "  table-turning  spiritism  ;  "  it 
is  neither  Docetic  nor  Ebionitic.  It  is  essentially  ethical. 
Vague  sentimentalism  about  a  merely  ideal  world  is  panthe- 
istic, and  annuls  moral  distinctions.  That  Christ  came  to 
save  a  lost  world,  that  sin  is  a  fact  and  redemption  needed, 
and  that  the  life  of  Jesus  is  to  be  interpreted  in  this  light, 
seems  never  to  have  dawned  on  Kenan's  imagination.  As  well 
might  a  life  of  Cromwell  be  written  without  saying  a  word 
of  Puritanism,  or  of  Napoleon  without  allusion  to  the  old 
regime  and  the  new  imperial  democracy.  According  to  our 
biographer,  the  relation  which  Jesus  bears  to  history  is 
merely  that  of  a  moral  hero,  living  and  dying  to  testify 
that  men  have  a  right  to  worship  an  ideal  God  just  as  they 
please.  He  is  not  brought  into  relation  with  the  great  moral 
problems  of  human  life  and  human  destiny.  The  whole 
wealth  of  thought  and  experience  contained  in  the  Incarna- 
tion and  the  Trinity,*  the  anthropology  and  soteriology  of  the 
Christian  system,  is  to  our  author  a  sealed  book.  Paul 
would  say  to  him  "  that  the  natural  man  receiveth  not  the 
things  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  for  they  are  foolishness  unto 
him  ;  neither  can  he  know  them,  because  they  are  spiritually 
discerned."      He   is   not  above  the  Greek  commingling  of 

*  "The  representations  of  the  Inconorata,  or  Mary,  placed  between  the 
Father  and  the  Son,  receiving  the  crown  from  the  hands  of  the  first,  and 
the  homage  of  the  second,  are  the  true  Trinity  of  Christian  piety."     Kenan's 
Etudes,  p.  411.     Note. 
28 


434  eenan's  life  of  jesus, 

sense  and  spirit,  tlie  classical  ideal  of  beauty  of  form,  which 
Christianity  came  to  supersede.  His  idea  of  immortality  is 
that  of  an  indefinite  progress  of  the  race  here  on  earth.  His 
consolations,  as  in  the  dedication  of  the  volume  to  "  tlie 
pure  soul  of  his  sister  Henriette,"  are  not  those  of  the  Chris- 
tian faith,  but  of  heathen  tenderness  and  vagueness.  The 
highest  litei-ary  and  aesthetic  culture  may  only  blind  the 
mind  to  the  light  that  comes  from  an  incarnate  and  redeem- 
ing deity.  Alas  !  for  the  generation  that  can  receive  such 
a  book  as  its  Gospel.  It  is  abandoned  to  naturalism  and 
pantheism,  and  nothing  can  save  it  but  a  moral  revolution. 

Considered  as  an  argument  to  uproot  faith  in  the  super- 
natural, the  work,  as  already  intimated,  is  embarrassed  by  its 
concessions  about  the  general  authenticity  of  the  Gospels 
and  the  time  of  their  composition.  This  is  conceded  by  the 
Westriiinster  Review.  Kenan  must  either  admit  more,  or 
deny  more,  about  the  credibility  of  Jesus  and  the  apostles. 
Strauss,  Baur,  and  the  German  negative  critics  in  general  are 
too  acute  to  expose  themselves  to  such  damaging  concessions. 
For  Renan  is  forced  to  the  point  blank  denial  of  the  testimony 
of  Jesus,  and  of  Peter,  Paul,  and  John.  If  he  denies  tlieir 
testimony — there  remains  only  the  alternative,  that  Jesus  was 
a  deceiver  or  self-deceived.  And  in  either  case,  how  can  he 
be  the  ideal  hero  of  the  human  race  ?  The  book  leaves  us  the 
choice  between  the  testimony  of  Jesus,  and  the  dogmatism  of 
M.  Renan. 

To  other  consequences  logically  involved  in  his  general 
views,  we  can  advert  only  in  brief  terms.  One  of  these  is, 
that  the  Christian  church,  as  it  has  histoi-ically  existed,  was 
founded,  not  in  what  is  real  and  permanent,  but  in  what 
is  unreal  and  illusive,  in  the  life  and  words  of  Jesus.  It  was 
not  the  ideal  moral  hero,  as  here  depicted,  who  gave  the  im- 
pulse to  history,  but  Jesus,  the  Messiah,  the  Son  of  God,  cru- 
cified for  our  sins  and  raised  again  for  our  justification.  It 
was  not  Jesus,  the  sentimental  moralist,  and  the  "transcen- 
dental idealist,"  who  conquered  the  old  Greek  and  Roman 
world  and  became  the  corner-stone  of  modern  history,  but  the 


EEACTIONARY  CHARACTEK  OF  M.  EENAn's  THEORY.  435 

Christ,  who  is  the  head  and  fuhiess  of  what  our  author  calls 
'•'  a  fantastic  kingdom  of  God."  The  "  legendary  "  has  made 
history.  The  church  has  been  adoring  a  hallucination.  Fic- 
tion has  ruled  mankind,  and  fact  has  had  no  power  for  good. 
The  central  histor}'  of  the  race  has  been  a  mockery  and  a 
delusion.  Was  there  ever  a  more  terrible  satire  upon  human 
nature  and  human  history !  It  is  the  theory  of  despair. 
And  yet  this  is  the  inevitable  result  of  that  naturalism,  which 
is  carelessly  accepted  by  many  minds  who  will  not  see  its 
desolating  consequences. 

But,  again,  according  to  the  philosophy  of  this  work,  it  ap- 
pears that  eighteen  hundred  years  ago,  ideal  excellence  lived 
for  a  time  here  on  earth,  divine  virtue  was  embodied  in  hu- 
man form.  Yet  it  was  ineffectual  for  good,  and  sficcumbed  to 
the  harsh  necessity,  wliicli  forced  it  into  deception  and  impos- 
ture, that  it  might  obtahi  power.  And  ever  since,  for  eigh- 
teen centuries,  figments  and  fables  have  ruled  the  race.  Now, 
man  is  recovering  this  lost  ideal,  and  it  is  prophesied  that  it 
will  yet  rule  the  nations.  Bat  who  can  tell?  May  not  the 
race  be  condemned  to  chase  phantoms  age  after  age  ?  What 
rational  hope  have  we  in  the  past  for  any  law  of  progress  in 
the  future  ?  Especially  when,  with  M.  Renan,  in  defiance 
of  the  whole  law  of  development,  w-e  put  the  unsurpassed 
ideal  so  far  back  in  historic  time.  His  theory  is  reactionary 
in  the  extreme,  and  against  all  the  laws  of  naturalism.  For, 
if  we  grow  from  nature  up  to  spirit,  the  garden  of  Paradise 
must  be  in  the  future  and  not  in  the  past,  and  the  ideal  of 
tiie  race  must  be  realized,  not  in  what  lias  been,  but  in  what 
is  yet  to  be.  Neither  in  Sakliya-Milni  *  nor  in  Jesus  ouglit 
we  to  find  the  ideal  and  the  real  blended,  nor  the  prolific 
fulness  of  genius  embodied  and  exhausted.  M.  Renan  must, 
if  consistent,  embrace  a  profounder  faith  or  a  subtler  and 
more  logical  infidelity.  The  Sermon  on  the  Mount  and  the 
Lord's  Prayer  will  not  satisfy  the  demands  of  the  positive 
philosophy  or  the  theory  of  naturalistic  development. 

*  "  The  legend  of  Buddha  Sakhya-Muni  is  the  one  which  most  resembles 
that  of  Christ  in  the  mode  of  its  formation."     Kenan's  Etudes,  p.  175. 


436  eenan's  life  of  jesus. 

Yet,  again,  according  to  our  author's  assumptions  and  im- 
plications, the  pure  morality  and  simple  religion  of  Jesus 
were  not  adopted  by  the  church  in  its  creeds,  and  did  not 
give  to  it  its  life  and  power.  Another  theology,  centering  in 
the  metaphysical  doctrines  of  the  Incarnation,  the  Trinity, 
Redemption,  Regeneration,  and  the  Judgment,  took  its  place, 
shaped  Christian  thought  and  life,  and  conquered  the  earth. 
Whence  came  this  other  system?  Not  from  Jesus.;  but  from 
his  apostles,  especially  from  John  and  Paul,  and  their  patris- 
tic interpreters.  These,  then,  are  the  real  authoi-s  of  the 
Christian  system.  Why,  then,  deny  them  their  proper  honor? 
Why  not  say  at  once,  that  in  actual  influence  and  power,  there 
have  been  greater  names  in  history  than  that  of  Jesus  of 
Nazareth  ? 

Apart  from  these  logical  difficulties,  inseparable  fi'om  its 
general  theory,  this  life  of  Jesus,  j  udged  as  a  work  of  art,  by 
a  merely  poetic  or  aesthetic  standard,  has  signal  defects  in  its 
idea  and  execution.  There  is  no  definite  central  idea  by 
which  tlie  2>arts  are  vitalized  and  shaped;  it  lacks  the  vis 
formativa,  the  germinant  energy  of  a  high  ideal,  and  unity  of 
type  and  life.  Strauss  reconstructs  tlie  life  of  Jesus  by  an 
abstract  idea ;  but  he  is  faithful  to  it.  Renan  is  inspired  by 
a  vague  notion  of  the  fancy.  His  ideal  man  is  of  a  low  and 
indetinite  type.  It  is  an  unreal  ideal.  It  requi]-es  no  great 
powers  either  of  criticism  or  of  imagination — with  the  Gos- 
pels open  before  us — to  construct  such  a  naturalistic  romance. 
Imagine  a  pure  youth  lost  in  revery,  degrade  all  the  higher 
attrilmtes  which  the  "  sources "  ascribe  to  him,  stamp  as 
legendary  whatever  is  beyond  vulgar  experience,  and  then 
let  him  sacrifice  his  youtliful  purity  and  simplicity  to  gain 
credence  and  power,  and  die  a  victim  to  his  own  infatuated 
claims — and  you  have  Renan's  moral  hero.  Neither  a  great 
di-ama  nor  an  epic  could  be  constructed  on  such  a  scheme. 
The  hero  is  constantly  declining  in  his  power  over  the  reason 
and  conscience.  The  aim,  in  high  tragedy,  must  be  to  repre- 
sent the  hero  as  retaining  his  virtue  in  the  midst  of  all  the 
contradictions  and  assaults  of  a  gainsaying  world.     He  sliould 


THE  JESUS  OF  EENAN  COULD  NEVER  HAVE  EXISTED.  437 

be  greatest  in  virtue  when  he  comes  to  act  upon  men.  Death 
should  be  brought  upon  him,  not  by  his  own  halkicinations 
and  collusions  with  imposture,  but  by  his  inflexible  righteous- 
ness, struggling  against  sin,  and  superior  to  fate.  This  is  the 
ideal  in  action,  and  no  other  ideal  can  claim  the  moral  homaofe 
of  the  race. 

The  life  and  character  of  Jesus,  as  here  portrayed,  are  also 
full  of  such  violent  improbabilities,  as  make  it  impossible  to 
retain  unity  of  idea  and  effect.  These  contradictions  are 
forced  upon  the  author  by  the  exigencies  of  his  naturalistic 
theory,  and  they  show  that  that  theory  cannot  be  carried  out. 
The  Christian  church  has  always  attributed  to  the  Godraan 
the  greatest  variety  of  contrasted  traits,  and  in  these  found 
one  secret  of  his  greatness ;  but  these  contrasts  have  not  in- 
volved moral  contradictions,  thej^  are  all  reconciled  in  the 
unity  of  our  Lord's  person,  and  in  his  work.  But  such  a 
being  as  Henan  depicts  could  nev-er  have  existed  ;  nu  sane 
imagination  can  grasp  the  conception  in  concord  and  unity. 
It  is  two  men  in  one,  two  lives  under  one  mask.  For  the 
hero  whom  he  delineates,  on  the  one  hand,  has  "  his  throne 
in  the  conscience,"  and  "  can  never  be  replaced  by  a  superior 
ideal,"  while,  on  the  other  hand,  he  had  not  that  "  sincerity 
with  oneself,"  which  is  a  characteristic  of  our  modern  "  seri- 
ousness," and  "  good  faith  and  imposture  "  "  were  not  to  him 
the  absolute  contradictions  wdiich  they  ai'e  to  us ;  "  he  is  '"  the 
universal  ideal,"  yet  the  "  mild  Spinoza  was  exempt  from 
some  of  the  errors  which  Jesus  shared ;  "  his  "  dominant  qual- 
ity was  an  infinite  delicacy,"  and  "his  reign  shall  have  no 
end,"  but  the  times  in  which  we  live  are  characterized  by  "a 
delicacy  of  morals  and  an  absolute  sincerity,"  "such  as  the 
orient  never  knew;  "  "all  ages  shall  proclaim  him  the  great- 
est of  mankind,"  yet  "our  principles  of  positive  science  are 
wounded  by  the  dreams"  which  his  programme  contained; 
he  believed  himself  to  have  the  power  of  working  miracles, 
while  miracles  "  always  impl}"  credulity  or  imposture  ;  "  "  in 
him  is  condensed  all  that  is  good  and  elevated  in  our  na- 
ture," although  he  "  despised  the  sane  limits  of  human  na- 


438  eenan's  life  of  jesus. 

ture,"  and  at  times  seemed  "out  of  the  pale  of  humanity," 
showino-  "sio-ns  of  illusion  or  madness:"  "the  whole  of  his- 
tory  is  incomprehensible  without  him,"  "he  made  religion 
take  a  step  in  advance  to  which  no  other  can  be  compared," 
and  yet  "his  reason  was  at  times  troubled,"  and  he  was 
made  "giddy"  by  apocalyptic  fancies;  he  "lived  in  the 
bosom  of  the  Father  by  constant  communications,"  while 
there  is  no  Father  outside  of  the  world  (excepting  "  the  in- 
finite abyss  ")  with  whom  any  one  can  have  communion  ;  "  his 
worship  shall  be  perpetually  rejuvenated,"  yet  that  worship 
thus  far  has  centred  in  the  "  legends  "  and  the  "  impostures  " 
by  which  his  purity  is  marred;  "we  all  owe  to  him  tliat 
which  is  best  in  us,"  and  yet  are  told  that  at  "  all  times  he 
yielded  much  to  opinion,  and  adopted  many  things  with 
which  he  did  not  agree,  because  they  were  popular;"  at  tlie 
double  point  of  view  of  meditation  and  action,  "  he  is  with- 
out equal,  his  glory  will  remain  entire  and  be  ever  renewed," 
but  when  he  came  to  act  and  was  opposed,  he  "  was  no 
longer  himself,"  and  in  his  last  hours  "terror  and  hesitation" 
overcame  him  ;  though  he  was  the  wisest  and  best  of  men, 
he  "  never  had  a  clear  notion  of  his  own  personality  ;  "  "  liis 
beauty  is  eternal,"  yet  "  that  which  made  the  grandeur  of 
Jesus  in  the  eyes  of  his  contemporaries  is  to  us  a  stain  upon 
his  ideal,  a  trait  by  which  that  ideal  loses  its  universality," 
and  tliat  stain  is  found  in  his  own  pretensions  to  thaumatui-gy 
and  the  Messiahship ;  and,  to  sum  up  all,  in  the  autlior's  own 
contrast,  "  the  thaumaturge  and  the  prophet  shall  die,  the  man 
and  the  sage  remain.  .  .  .  Here  is  the  living  God,  here  is 
he  whom  we  must  adore  " — and  this  pretended  "  prophet "  is 
the  same  being  as  this  "  sage,"  and  this  "  thaumaturge  "  is 
also  "  the  living  God,  whom  we  adore."  Similar  contradic- 
tions are  found  in  his  destiny  to  those  in  his  character.  He 
was  to  restore  to  the  world  its  lost  moral  ideal,  and  his  suc- 
cess was  achieved  only  by  marring  the  ideal  itself ;  he  was  as 
unparalleled  in  his  incredible  hallucinations,  as  in  his  virtue, 
and  without  his  hallucinations  his  virtue  could  have  had  no 
abiding  influence ;  he  died  as  the  moral  hero  of  the  race,  and 


SUPEKNATUKALISM   OR   IMPOSTDEE.  439 

yet  that  death  was  brought  upon  him,  not  by  his  purity  but 
by  his  unreal  pretensions ;  the  cup  he  drank  in  Getlisemane 
was  the  bitterness  of  disappointed  hope ;  the  agony  of  the 
cross  was  his  regret,  because  "  he  was  suffering  for  so  vile  a 
race ;  "  and  yet  by  means  of  that  deatli  he  was  made  "  stain- 
less and  divine  " — henceforth  "  to  be  worshipped  by  all  ages 
as  the  greatest  of  mankind."  Can  language  utter  sharper 
moral  contradictions,  or  imagination  depict  a  more  impossible 
figment  ? 

But,  still,  from  these  gross  inconsistencies  one  conclusion 
of  moment  leaps  to  the  front,  and  that  is,  the  impossibility  of 
reconstructing  the  life  of  Jesus  on  the  basis  of  naturalism, 
leaving  his  moral  personality  untarnished.  This  is  tlie  moral 
of  Renan's  book ;  and,  if  offences  must  needs  come,  it  is 
well  that  so  much  talent  and  skill  should  be  put  forth  to  make 
this  grand  conclusion  plain.  To  deny  the  supernatural  is 
easy,  to  disprove  it  is  difficult.  Here  is  the  battle-ground  of 
the  times.  The  supernatural  has  been  chiefly  argued  in  rela- 
tion to  miracles;  but  there  is  a  higher  form  of  it,  and  a 
weightier  question,  that  relating  to  the  person  of  our  Lord  as 
its  embodiment  and  incarnation.  This  book,  if  it  proves  any- 
thing, proves  that  naturalism  cannot  reconstruct,  without  fal- 
sifying, the  life  of  Jesus.  By  no  possible  art  can  the  "  legen- 
dary "  be  sundered  from  the  historical  in  the  gospels,  and  the 
history  still  command  our  homage.  And  though  Renan  slurs 
over  inquiry,  he  camiot  evade  the  remorseless  logic,  which 
gives  the  dilemma — supernaturalism  or  imposture.  Nor  can 
he  himself,  with  all  his  positivism,  escape  the  vestigia  of 
supernaturalism,  imprinted  upon  the  human  consciousness  by 
a  divine  hand,  and  revealed  in  universal  longings  for  an  ideal 
world,  even  M'hen  all  living  faith  seems  well  nigh  extinct. 
The  "  infinite  abyss  "  over  which  he  lingers  in  awe,  his  aspira- 
tions for  iimnortality  with  all  their  vagueness,  the  despera- 
tion with  which  he  still  clings  to  Jesus  as  the  ideal  of  the 
race — all  this  is  the  hunger  of  the  soul  for  spiritual  bread,  its 
instinctive  gasping  for  a  breath  from  the  divine  Spirit.  The 
shadow  of  the  supernatural  is  still  upon  him.     All  the  won- 


440  eenan's  life  of  jesus. 

ders  lie  rejects  are  as  nothing,  compared  with  the  wonder  of 
an  infinite  cause  and  an  absolute  spirit.  .  Supernatnralism  is 
necessary  to  every  great  man,  to  every  great  nation.  Renan 
himself  tells  us,  that  China  is  stationary  because  it  has  no 
sense  of  the  supernatural.  Take  away  from  modern  Europe, 
from  France  itself,  the  divine  ideas  contained  in  its  creeds 
and  churches,  take  away  from  any  people  its  faith  in  God, 
and  there  is  left  only  chaos  and  dark  night.  As  long  as 
such  faith  is  retained,  Christ  will  remain  the  ideal  man  ;  when 
faith  in  the  supernatural  is  gone,  Jesus  of  Nazareth  will  also 
lose  his  hold  ujDon  the  reverence  of  mankind,  and  be  classed 
wuth  the  visionaries  of  the  race. 

And  to  this  we  add,  concluding  our  argument,  that  the 
incongruities  and  contradictions  which  Kenan  finds  in  the 
life  of  Jesus,  are  all  reconciled  on  the  basis  of  the  received 
faith  of  the  church.  Naturalism  must  find  Christ  inexplica- 
ble and  paradoxical.  It  can  neither  explain  his  nature,  nor 
his  acts,  nor  his  words,  nor  his  historic  position  and  in- 
fluence. But  in  the  faith  of  the  church,  the  ideal  and  real 
are  blended,  the  earlier  and  later  words  of  Jesus  are  har- 
monized, his  profoundest  teachings  made  luminous,  his 
mysterious  death  seen  to  be  necessary  to  his  divine  ofiice, 
while  his  resurrection  and  ascension  complete  his  work  and 
explain  his  historic  triumphs.  The  universe  is  no  longer,  as 
in  the  theory  of  Renan,  on  its  dark  side  an  "  abyss,"  and  on 
its  side  of  light  the  phantom  life  of  transient  human  beings; 
but  the  infinite  One  and  the  finite  world  are  united  and 
reconciled  in  one  complete  system,  whose  centre  is  found  in 
tlie  person  and  work  of  an  incarnate  deity.  Nothing  in  all 
literature  and  all  philosophy  ecpials  this  sublime  and  radiant 
idea,  the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  God,  as  it 
shines  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  It  is  written  on 
the  open  page  of  the  divine  oracles,  it  is  impressed  upon  the 
soul  of  the  believer,  it  is  drawn  out  in  the  theologies  of  the 
church,  it  is  hymned  in  penitential  and  jubilant  psalms,  in 
its  substantial  lineaments  it  is  omnipresent  in  tlie  history  of 
the  world,  it  unites    time  with  eternity,  and  it  explains  the 


THE  JESUS  OF  EENAN  A  FIGMENT  OF  NATUEALISM.  441 

marvellous  and  controlling  power  of  the  Son  of  God  in  the 
annals  of  our  race,  whose  highest  destiny  is  to  be  found  in 
coniino;  to  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the  fulness  of 
Christ. 

The  Jesus  depicted  by  Tlenan  is  a  figment  of  naturalism, 
a  conception  that  can  neither  be  imaged  forth  nor  realized ; 
it  has  the  outward  forms  and  framework  of  human  life,  but 
within  there  is  not  even  an  immortal  personal  consciousness. 
We  have,  in  the  last  analysis,  only  the  shadow  of  death. 
And  here  is  the  essence  of  naturalism.  The  Jesus  of  the 
Gospels,  of  the  Epistles,  and  of  the  church,  is  human  and 
divine,  is  king  and  priest  in  an  eternal  kingdom,  is  the 
Saviour  of  the  world,  is  the  lord  of  life.  And  this  is  the 
essence  of  supernaturalism.  And  naturalism  must  expel 
Chi-ist  from  the  heart  and  the  church,  from  the  conscience 
and  the  life,  before  it  can  expel  supernaturalism  from  human 
history. 


THE  NEW  FAITH  OF  STRAUSSJ 


In  1835  David  Friedrich  Strauss,  then  twenty-seven  years 
old,  and  a  re^etent  at  the  Tiibhigen  University,  published  his 
Life  of  Jesus.  In  this  he  gathered  togetlier  the  scattered 
criticisms  of  rationalists  and  others  upon  the  gosj^el  narra- 
tives, combined  them  into  a  system  by  the  aid  of  the  mythical 
theory,  rejected  all  the  prophetic  and  miraculous  elements  as 
visionary  and  nnhistorical,  and  sunmied  up  the  results  in  a 
lifeless  portraiture  of  the  man  Jesus,  and  a  Hegelian  con- 
struction of  tlie  Christian  system,  as  false  in  fact  but  true  in 

*  From  the  Presbyterian  Quarterly  and  Princeton  Review,  April,  1874. 

The  Old  Faith  and  the  New  :  A  Confession  by  David  Friedrich  Strauss. 
Authorized  Translation  from  the  Sixth  Edition,  by  Mathilde  Blind. 
American  Edition,  two  vols,  in  one.  The  Translation  revised  and  partly 
rewritten,  and  preceded  by  an  American  version  of  the  Author's  "  Prefatory 
Postscript."  [By  J.  Fitzgerald.]  New  York:  Henry  Holt  &  Co.  1873. 
Our  references,  for  convenience,  are  made  to  this  edition. 

Der  alte  und  der  neue  Glaube.  Ein  Bekenntniss  von  D.  F.  Strauss. 
Leipzig  :  S.  Hirzel.     1873.     s.  374. 

Ein  Nachwort  als  Vorwort  zu  den  neuen  Auflagen  seiner  Schrift :  Der 
alte  und  der  neue  Glaube  von  D.  F.  Strauss.  Bonn :  E.  Strauss.  1873. 
s.  47. 

Strauss,  I'ancienne  et  la  nouvelle  Foi,  par  A.  Vera,  Professeur  de  Philo- 
Kophie  a,  r  Universite  de  Naples.    Naples:  Detken  &  Rocholl.    1873.    p.  362, 

H.  Ulrici  [Professor  zu  Halle],  Der  alte  und  d.  neue  Glaube,  von  D.  F. 
Strauss.  Reviewed  in  Fichte  and  Ulrici's  Zeitschrift  fiir  Philosophic,  vol. 
xvi.  pp.  286-392.     Also  separately  issued. 

D.  F.  Strauss'  alte  und  neue  Glaube,  und  seine  literarischen  Ergebnisse, 
von  Dr.  L.  W.  E.  Rauwenhoff,  Prof,  an  der  Universittit  zu  Leiden,  und  Dr. 
Fr.  Nippold,  Prof,  an  der  Universitat  Bern.  Leipzig  und  Leiden.  1873. 
8.  246. 

Der  alte  und  neue  Glaube  von  Strauss,  kritisch  gewilrdigt  von  Dr. 
Johannes  Huber,  Prof.  d.  Philosophic  zu  Miinchen.  Nordlingen.  1873. 
s.  96.     Reprinted  from  the  Augsburg  Allgememe  Zeitung. 


444  THE   NEW    FAITH    OF    STEAUSS. 

an  ideal  or  rather  a  pantheistic  acceptation.  Ilis  main  criti- 
cal canon  was — ^all  that  is  supernatural  is  unhistoi'ical  or 
mj'thical.  Master  of  a  clear  and  trenchant  style,  penetrating 
and  unsparing  in  his  criticism,  especially  of  the  shifts  and 
subterfuges  of  the  older  rationalism,  helped  on  by  the  flood- 
tide  of  Ilegelianism  just  then  sweeping  in,  his  work  made  a 
deep  impression  and  aroused  a  prolonged  controversy.  Or- 
thodox and  rationalists  sprang  to  their  arms  to  resist  the  bold 
invader.  The  work  was  translated  in  England  by  Marian 
Evans  ("  George  Eliot "),  and  republished  in  this  country, 
but  it  did  not  make  any  great  impression  upon  English 
theology.  In  Germany  it  was  successfully  combatted,  espe- 
cially in  resj)ect  to  the  "  mythical  "  iiypothesis,  and  was  soon 
superseded  by  the  more  advanced  and  solid  thinkers  of  the 
school  of  Baur  of  Tubingen,  which  traced  back  the  super- 
natural factors  of  the  Christian  system,  not  to  a  popular 
myth-making  propensity,  but  to  the  great  social  and  religicnis 
tendencies  of  that  fermenting  and  formative  j^eriod,  full  as  it 
was  of  conflicting  agencies,  and  instinct  with  the  germs  of  a 
new  era  in  the  development  of  the  human  race. 

For  some  j'ears  Strauss  was  kept  busy  with  the  contro- 
versies he  had  kindled,  preparing  meanwhile  liis  so-called 
System  of  the  Christian  Faith  (2  vols.  1840-1),  in  which  he 
applied  the  Hegelian  theory  of  development  by  antagonisms 
to  the  Christian  doctrines,  denying  them  in  the  sense  of  the 
church,  and  affirming  their  truth  only  in  a  metaphysical  or 
ideal  sense,  resolving  in  fact  the  Christian  system  into  an  a 
jprio/'i  philosophical  scheme  in  the  pantheistic  sense.  In 
1S39  he  was  elected  professor  of  theology  in  Zurich,  but  was 
kept  out  of  his  chair  by  a  popular  insurrection — though  re- 
taining for  life  half  of  his  salary,  lie  was  married  to  a  once 
celebrated  actress,  Agnese  Schebert,  and  divorced.  In  the 
revolutionary  period  of  1848,  he  failed  in  an  attempt  to  be 
elected  to  the  noted  Frankfort  Parliament,  which  died  of 
much  talking ;  but  he  was  chosen  to  the  Diet  of  Wurtem- 
burg,  where  he  surprised  his  adherents  by  his  strong  advo- 
cacy of  the  conservative  side ;  and  in  his  very  latest  work  he 


STRAUSS    IN    HIS    LATER   YEARS.  445 

is  decidedly  monarchical,  taking  special  pains  to  disparage 
republican  institutions,  especially  those  of  our  country.  Hav- 
ing in  his  own  conceit  resolved  the  life  of  Jesus  into  a  mvth, 
and  the  faith  of  the  church  into  a  barren  scheme  of  specula- 
tion, he  betook  himself  to  literary  and  biographical  investiga- 
tions, gaining  some  aesthetic  applause,  especially  by  a  memoir 
of  the  old  German  knight,  Ulricrh  von  Ilutten,  and  a  critique 
on  Voltaire,  first  read  to  tlie  Crown  Princess  of  Prussia; 
varying  these  historical  studies  with  occasional  piquant  criti- 
cisms upon  the  inconsistencies  of  the  followers  of  Schleier- 
macliier,  and  the  "half-truths"  of  Schenkel  and  the  rational- 
istic Protestant  League — contending  keenly  and  justly  that 
they  ought  to  go  further  with  him  and  fare  worse.  Ten 
years  since,  finding  himself  left  in  the  background  by  the 
steady  j)rogress  of  the  school  of  Baur,  he  wrote  a  "  Life  of 
Jesus  "  for  the  German  people,  to  give  so  far  as  possible  a 
delineation  of  what  was  still  left  of  the  person  of  Christ  after 
all  this  remorseless  dissection.  In  this  he  still  holds  Chris- 
tianity to  be  "  a  spiritual  and  moral  power  that  rules  the 
earth ;  "  that  what  it  has  given  us  "  we  cannot  do  without, 
nor  can  it  be  lost ;  "  that  Jesus  stands  in  the  foremost  line 
"  of  those  who  have  given  a  higher  ideal  to  humanity,"  real- 
izing in  his  own  person  what  he  taught  to  others.  But  still 
the  outline  is  wan  and  shadowy  and  the  homage  faint.  In 
his  declining  days,*  when  preyed  upon  by  a  fatal  disease, 
he  felt  impelled  by  the  undying  "genius "  within  him  to 
give  another  "impulse  to  progress"  (pp.  14,  15  of  his  Pre- 
face), by  writing  this  new  Confession,  in  which  he  casts 
aside  the  associations  and  restraints  of  custom  and  tradition  ; 
honestly  renounces  all  deceptive  accommodations ;  denies  to 
Jesus  any  decisive  part  or  place  in  man's  religious  and  moral 
life ;  and  concludes  that  "  a  fantastic  fanaticism "  is  his 
chief  characteristic,  so  far  as  we  know  anything  about  him. 
This  is,  indeed,  only  the  logical  result  of  his  whole  life's 
w^ork,  and  it  is  well  to  have  it  plainly  put. 

*  Since  this  was  written,  news  has  been  received  of  his  decease  at  his  na- 
tive place,  Ludwigsburg,  Feb.  9,  1874. 


446  THE   NEW    FAITH    OF    STRAUSS. 

Infidelity  sometimes  "  serves  the  law  it  seems  to  violate." 
Logically  and  ruthlessly  carried  out,  it  reveals  its  inmost 
nature,  and  sets  before  tlie  vacillating  half-believers  just  where 
their  scepticism  tends.  A  thorough-going  and  uncompro- 
mising atheism  or  pantheism  may  thus  unwittingly  render 
essential  service  to  the  Christian  faith.  In  putting  forth  its 
full  strength  it  may  unvail  its  essential  impotence.  Thus 
this  last  volume  of  one  of  the  ablest  modern  antagonists  of 
our  faith  shows  the  utmost  that  can  be  said  against  it,  with- 
out reserve  or  qualification.  It  exhibits  the  old  and  the  new 
faith  in  their  sharpest  antagonism.  We  see  what  we  must 
give  up  if  we  abandon  Christianity,  what  we  have  left  if  we 
accept  the  new  belief.  It  is,  said  Strauss,  in  substance.  Athe- 
ism or  Christianity  :  there  is  no  logical  middle  ground.  This 
is  the  vital  sense  of  his  "  Confession." 

And  this  is  a  great  point  gained  in  the  whole  argument. 
The  issue  is  definitely  made.  Yisors  and  masks  ai*e  raised. 
The  sentimental  semi-infidels  are  forced  to  face  the  storm. 
Some  scientific  men,  who  talk  vaguely  and  plausibly  all  round 
the  only  real  questions  in  debate,  will  be  obliged  to  leave 
rhetoric  and  use  logic,  and  boldly  meet  the  inevitable  conse- 
(piences  of  their  own  principles.  For  Strauss  has,  at  last,  no 
reserves,  no  concealments ;  he  has  dared  "  the  uttermost." 
Vague  phrases  find  their  clear  statements.  Unreal  compro- 
mises are  brushed  aside.  What  others  whisper  to  the  coterie, 
lie  proclaims  from  the  house-tops.  Those  who  i-eject  a  per- 
sonal God  (he  argues),  must  accept  a  blind  and  godless  evolu- 
tionism. It  is,  with  him,  God  or  Darwin :  "  the  choice  lies 
only  between  the  miracle — the  divine  Creator — and  Darwin" 
(i.  204).     "  Everything  or  nothing." 

His  work  is  entitled  "A  Confession,"  not  in  the  sense  of  the 
older  confessions,  like  that  of  Augustine,  depicting  the  wrest- 
ling of  the  soul  with  the  powers  of  sin  and  unbelief ;  nor  even 
like  unto  that  of  Rousseau — a  frank  revelation  of  a  strua-irling: 
natural  life,  beset  by  temptation;  but  an  account  of  the  pro- 
gress of  a  desolating  creed,  until  idealism  is  merged  in  mate- 
rialism, and  pantheism  in  atheism.     It  is  not  a  work  of  re- 


STKAUSS'    DOUBLE    APOSTASY.  447 

search,  or  a  scientific  criticism  ;  still  less  an  inspiring:  revelation 
of  ennobling  struggles  and  aspirations  ;  but  rather  a  dissection 
of  the  slow  and  fatal  process  of  spiritual  death — of  the  utter 
extinction  of  all  that  jDhilosophers  and  divines  have  called 
spiritual  life — the  life  of  God  in  the  sonl  of  man.  As  com- 
pared with  his  previous  writings,  his  critics  see  in  it  a  double 
apostasy — an  apostasy  from  his  veneration  for  the  man  Jesus, 
involving  tlie  loss  of  an  ideal  for  the  race  ;  and  a  philosophical 
apostasy  from  the  dizzy  heights  of  pantheistic  transcendejital- 
ism  to  the  earth-born  theories  of  modern  materialism.  While 
confessing  the  snbstance  of  the  accusation,  he  prefers  to  call 
his  change  a  progress.  In  respect  to  the  person  of  Jesus,  he 
at  last  confesses  that  he  formerly  tried,  in  a  forced  and  arti- 
ficial way,  to  save  his  semblance  as  an  ideal  ;  but  now  he  sees 
that  this  is  unnecessary  and  inconsistent;  that  if  his  theory 
and  criticism  be  true,  Jesus  must  have  been  a  dreamy,  mis- 
guided, self-deceived  enthusiast  or  fanatic.  And,  in  fact, 
after  one  gives  up  all  the  gospels,  denies  prophecy  and  mira- 
cles, robs  Christ  of  his  sinless  humanity,  ejects  him  from  his 
central  place,  and  scorns  his  living  personal  power — what 
matters  it  whether  or  no  he  still  apply  to  him  a  few  adjectives 
of  sentimental  adulation.  If  he  is  not  the  Saviour  and  head 
of  the  Church,  he  is  the  most  daring  fanatic  the  world  has 
known.  Some  of  Strauss'  keenest  thrusts  are  against  those 
who  pay  to  Jesus  a  merely  verbal  homage.  The  accidents  are 
worthless  when  the  substance  is  gone. 

Ilis  philosophical  apostasy  is  most  fully  exposed  in  the 
work  of  Prof.  Vera,  of  Naples,  an  Hegelian  of  the  old  right 
wing — one  of  the  very  few  of  that  type  now  left.  He  covers 
362  pages,  hinting  at  more  to  come,  with  an  exposure  of  this 
philosophical  rebellion  against  the  acme  of  human  reason  as 
attained  and  set  foi-th  in  Hegel's  "  Logic  "  and  "  Encyclo- 
psedia."  He  is  indignant  and  diffuse,  occasionally  as  eloquent 
as  a  philosopher  ought  to  be  ;  and  though  he  comes  a  genera- 
tion too  late  to  show  that  Hegelianism  has  solved  all  riddles 
and  is  a  finality  in  human  speculation,  yet  ho  has  certainly 


448  THE    NEW    FAITH    OF    STRAUSS. 

succeeded  in  proving  that  Strauss  is  a  one-sided  expositor  of 
the  great  German  dialectician,  and  that  in  his  last  work  he 
has  fallen,  like  a  modern  Lucifer,  from  the  empyrean  of 
pantheism  into  the  slough  of  the  most  unmitigated  modern 
materialism.*  The  criticism  of  Prof.  Ulrici  of  Halle,  cited 
at  the  head  of  this  article,  is  entirely  devoted  to  an  exposure 
of  the  philosophical  pretensions  and  contradictions  of  Strauss, 
without  any  reference  to  his  theological  dogmas.  It  is  an 
acute  and  able  examination.  He  claims  that  the  "  New 
Faith  "  is  destitute  of  any  tenable  philosophical  basis.  "  We 
maintain,"  he  says,  "  that  Strauss'  new  work  is  nearly  equiva- 
lent to  an  avowal  of  philosophical  bankruptcy  on  the  part 
of  its  famous  author."  (p.  206  of  the  Philosojphisohe  Zeit- 
sehy'ift,)  This,  we  think,  he  fully  establishes ;  and  he  is  a 
veteran  in  these  conflicts.  His  profound  work,  "  God  and 
Nature,''  contains  a  thorough  examination  and  refutation  of  all 
the  recent  materialistic  and  semi-materialistio  theories,  and  is 
well  worthy  of  being  translated.  There  is  no  volume  of 
equal  value,  on  this  debate,  in  the  English  literature.  The 
short  treatise  by  the  distinguished  old  Catholic,  Prof.  Iluber, 
of  Munich  (who  was  associated  with  Dollinger  in  producing 
the  far-famed  letters  on  the  Vatican  Council),  is  a  skilful, 
popular  exhibition  and  refutation  of  the  main  positions  of 
the  "  New  Faitli."  Prof.  Pauwenhoff,  of  Leyden,  argues 
from  the  standpoint  of  modern  Christian  liberalism,  taking 
the  ground  that  Strauss  should  have  represented  that,  and  not 
the  primitive  or  the  orthodox  creeds,  as  containing  the  es- 
sence of  Christianity — a  position  whicii  Strauss  has  shown  to 
be  untenable.  Tiie  recent  literary  criticisms  on  Strauss, 
from  all  parties,  are  reported  in  sum  in  Prof.  Nippold's  essay 
in  the  same  volume. 


*  Vera  is  perhaps  the  clearest  and  most  enthusiastic  interpreter  of  Hegel 
outside  of  the  Empire.  His  " Introduction  to  the  Philosophy  of  Hegel" 
gives  an  intelligible  and  systematic  exposition  of  the  system.  He  has  also 
translated  Hegel's  "  Logic,"  his  "  Philosophy  of  Nature,"  and  his  ''  Philos- 
ophy of  Spirit." 


IT    IS    STILL   THE    OLD    FAITH    OE    A    NEW    FAITH.  449 

But  this  voIu]iie  of  Strauss  is  not  merely  a  confession  ;  it  is 
also  the  confession  of  a  ''  New  Faith  " — and  the  word  faitk 
is  here  emphatic  and  significant.  In  the  "  Postcript"  (p.  xxv. 
of  the  translation,  p.  33  of  the  original),  written  after  the 
fourth  edition  of  his  work  luid  appeared,  he  says:  "Its  title 
was  puj-posely  chosen  so  as  to  contrast  with  the  Old  Faith, 
not  a  new  knowledge,  but  a  New  Belief.  For  in  shaping  a 
comprehensive  view  of  the  whole  universe,  to  be  put  in  tlie 
place  of  the  equally  comprehensive  faith  of  the  church,  we 
cannot  rest  satisfied  with  what  is  estahlishcd  hy  strict  induc- 
timi,  but  we  must  also  append  many  things  which,  on  the 
basis  of  such  induction,  are  required  by  thought  in  the  way 
either  of  presuppositions  or  of  logical  consequences."  This 
is  a  very  valuable  sentence.  With  "  presuppositions  "  and 
"consequences"  much  may  be  done.  The  system  which  is  to 
succeed  Christianity  still  rests  on  belief  and  not  on  scientific 
demonstrations.  And  this  is  a  fact,  however  much  and  con- 
veniently it  may  be  ignored.  As  the  case  now  stands,  not- 
withstanding the  confident  boasts  of  some  "scientists,"  it  is 
still  one  faith  against  another  faith,  and  not  science  against 
faith.  It  is  a  blind  faith  in  a  blind  force  and  an  unvei-ified 
law  of  evolution  ;  in  contrast  with  a  sublime  faith  in  an  ab- 
solute, rational,  conscious  Spirit,  as  the  ground  and  autlior  of 
the  whole  finite  universe. 

Strauss  is  too  clear-headed  to  claim  that  inductixe  science 
has  explained,  or  can  fully  explain,  the  universe.  Some 
scientific  sciolists  abroad,  and  their  echoes  in  this  country, 
])retend  that  the  issue  is  the  blind  faith  of  theologians  against 
tlie  accredited  demonstrations  of  science.  But  the  truth  is, 
that  there  is  not  an  established  fact  or  principle,  verified  by 
strict  induction — by  induction  held  sternly  to  its  clear  and 
narrow  method — with  which  any  postulate  or  dogma  of  the 
Christian  system  can  be  shown  to  be  at  variance.  The  real 
conflict  is  between  the  metaphysics  and  logic  of  some 
"  scientists,"  and  the  metaphysics  and  logic  of  almost  all  the 
great  thinkers  as  well  as  the  theologians  of  the  human  race. 
All  that  induction  can  do,  as  scientific,  is  to  observe  phenom- 


450  THE   NEW    FAITH    OF    STRAUSS. 

ena  and  sequences  in  nature,  and  put  them  into  convenient 
generalizations.  As  soon  as  it  transcends  this  narrow  sphere 
and  "feigns  hypotheses,"  it  becomes,  as  induction,  illegiti- 
mate :  its  leaders  talk  metaphysics  without  knowing  it,  and 
often  without  any  special  vocation,  Tiie  best  of  them  but 
repeat,  in  a  vague  way,  the  spocolations  of  Zeno  and  Lucre- 
tius:  some  of  them  are  akin  to  the  Buddhists.  No  induction 
has  yet  established,  or  can  it  ever  do  this,  the  non-existence 
of  the  superiuxtural,  the  impossibility  of  miracles,  or  any  one 
article  of  an  atheistic  creed.  There  are  no  facts  to  show  that 
there  is  no  power  above  nature  to  which  it  is  subordinate. 
Evolution  itself,  as  an  absolute  law  without  a  God,  is  abso- 
Uitely  unverified  ;  and,  as  an  historical  fact,  it  is  not  proven. 
On  the  cpiestion  of  the  origin  and  destiny  of  the  universe — on 
the  first  cause  and  last  end  of  the  successions  of  being — sci- 
ence, like  Christianity,  still  rests  in  belief,  if  it  has  anything 
to  say.  It  can,  at  the  utmost,  only  put  one  theory  against 
another,  and  for  its  own  theory  it  cannot  appeal  to  any  in- 
duction which  has  yet  been  made.  And  no  mere  inductive 
philosophy  can  ever  rise  to  the  height  of  this  great  argument. 

This  work  is  then  the  Confession  of  a  ISTew  Faith,  but  it  is 
more  than  this :  it  is  an  attempt  to  combine  all  the  elements 
of  opposition  to  Christianity  and  religion  into  one  systeuj, 
and  it  indicates  the  process  by  which  the  old  is  to  be  trans- 
formed into  the  new.  This  comes  out  more  definitely  in  the 
Postscript  (which  is  also  a  preface)  than  in  the  body  of  the 
"  Confession ;  "  and  it  is  one  of  the  most  significant  points  in 
the  whole  discussion,  foreshadowing  the  future. 

Two  systems  of  philosophy,  roughly  classed  as  Idealism 
and  Materialism,  each  with  a  distinctive  method,  the  deduc- 
tive (or  speculative)  for  Idealism,  and  the  inductive  for  Ma- 
terialism, have  always  more  or  less  prevailed  in  the  civilized 
world,  and  are  usually  regarded  as  antagonistic,  as  subversive 
the  one  of  the  other.  Idealism,  with  its  purely  rational  ideas 
or  data,  when  exclusive  or  one-sided,  tends  to,  and  is  conv 
pleted  in,  the  pantheistic  theory  of  the  universe ;  and  herein 


MATERIALISM   AND    IDEALISM.  451 

Germany  lias  led  the  way — and  this  was  Stranss'  starting- 
point  in  his  earlier  writings.  Materialism  beginning  with 
the  other  pole  of  being,  external  phenomena  (including  also 
sensations),  and  applying  the  strict  inductive  method,  gravi- 
tates with  equal  force  toward  atheism,  and  denies  infinite  and 
absolute  being.  This  tendency  has  shown  itself  chieflj'  in 
France  and  England.  The  principles  of  the  two  systems  are 
opposite,  their  methods  different,  and  they  have  been  in  con- 
stant conflict  with  each  other,  united  only  in  their  conscious 
opposition  (when  strictly  and  exclusively  held)  to  the  Chris- 
tian faith — which,  as  a  general  rule,  has  retained  elements 
from  both  the  systems,  and  made  use  of  both  methods.  But 
in  the  most  recent  developments  of  philosophy,  in  both  these 
schools,  there  are  patent  signs  of  a  union  between  them, 
especially  in  view  of  the  destructive  warfare  against  Christi- 
anity which  both  are  waging.  Idealism  (pantheism)  confesses 
that  it  cannot  construct  the  universe  by  ajpriori  ideas,  not 
even  with  the  seductive  aid  of  the  Ileo-elian  loo-ic.  And,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  most  thoughtful  scientific  men  are  con- 
ceding that  beyond  and  above  (or  within)  the  phenomena  of 
the  senses  there  is  infinite  and  absolute  being  (see,  for  ex- 
ample, Herbert  Spencer) ;  that  all  forces  are  modes  of  one 
force ;  that  all  that  lives  shares  in  one  life  ;  that  all  pheno- 
mena ma}^  and  must  be  evolved  out  of  some  primal  fount  of 
life  and  being.  This  tendency  of  the  sensational  school  and 
of  the  inductive  philosophy  is  most  definitely  expressed  iu 
the  theory  of  evolution  ;  for  no  evolutionist  can  rest  in  tran- 
sient phenomena — he  must  refer  all  changes  to  one  persistent 
force,  all  grades  of  being  to  one  primitive  genus — in  Platonic 
phrase  the  elho<i  to  the  yevo<;.  Many  evolutionists  who  started 
as  materialists,  do  not  yet  clearly  see  this  drift ;  but  it  is  the 
inevitable  metaphysics  of  the  theory.  In  this  way  induction 
leads  on  to  metaphysics,  materialism  joins  hands  with  ideal- 
ism. Slight  concessions  will  bring  the  two  parties  together. 
The  opposite  methods  run  into  each  other:  the  materialist 
traces  back  his  inductions  as  far  as  the  microscope  can  reach 
—  and  discerns  beyond,  by  the  very  necessitj-  of  thought,  an 


452      .  THE    NEW    FAITH    OF    STKAUSS. 

illimitable  force,  real  though  unconscious;  the  idealist  begins 
to  construct  his  sclieme  by  the  deductions  of  pure  reason,  but 
as  soon  as  his  infinite  emerges  into  the  fijiite,  he  needs  the 
microscope  as  well,  and  the  aid  of  the  inductive  process. 
Thus  both  reach  to  and  meet  in  a  point  where  the  unfathom- 
able, the  infinite,  the  "  unknowable  "  (whj^  not  say  the  super- 
natural ?),  either  as  substance  or  power,  or  both  in  one,  in- 
evitably strikes  upon  and  balks  their  vision  and  their  com- 
prehension ;  while,  at  the  same  time,  both  agree  that  for  all 
pi-actical  aims  and  needs  this  world  gives  us  all — that  the 
hereafter  is  an  unreal  ideal.  They  equally  deny  all  that  is 
supernatural  or  miraculous — a  personal  God,  the  immortality 
of  the  soul,  a  specific  revelation.  Christ  is  to  both  a  visionary, 
not  merely  a  man  like  other  men,  but  a  dreamy  enthusiast ; 
and  Christ's  church  is  the  one  great  obstacle  to  progress  and 
civilization.  Christianity  has  played  its  part  out  to  the  final 
act  and  we  are  on  the  verge  of  the  catastrophe.  Christian 
theology,  too,  say  both  pantheist  and  atheist,  is  wholly  unreal : 
it  is  to  take  its  place  with  the  ancient  mythologies.  Both 
hold  and  concede  that  besides  our  mundane  experience — be- 
3'ond  the  track  of  time  on  which  the  race  is  marching — there 
is  for  us  only  an  unconscious,  non-rational,  non-moral  force 
or  background  of  beiug  from  which  all  tilings  proceed  by 
necessity,  to  which  all  things  tend  irresistibly.  They  equally 
maintain  that  behind  us  is  but  an  infinite  force,  void  and 
nameless,  and  before  us  only  an  unfathomable  abyss ;  and 
for  us,  only  this  world  and  this  life.  Why,  then,  should  they 
not  make  common  cause  against  that  Christian  faith  which 
fills  the  past  void  with  an  Infinite  God,  and  the  future  dark- 
ness with  a  divine  and  eternal  kingdom,  and  makes  this 
world  the  theatre  of  the  grand  drama  of  an  Incarnation  of 
Love ! 

And  the  real  power  of  Strauss'  book  consists  in  his  insisting 
upon  this  compact,  and  showing  how  it  may  be  carried  out. 
If  it  has  any  influence  it  will  be  in  this  direction.  In  assign- 
ing his  reasons  for  resuming,  after  a  long  interval,  his  theo- 
logical and  philosophical  polemics,  he  says  (p.  x.)  that  the  late 


COMMON    OBJECT    OF   MATERIALISM    AND    IDEALISM.  453 

"  developiueiits  of  science  had  put  him  in  a  position  by  bring- 
ino;  tosetlier  the  scattered  trains  of  thono-ht,  of  o-ivino:  an  im- 
pulse  to  progress — and  also  to  scandal."  His  aim  is  to  com- 
bine the  results  of  theological  criticism  "  with  those  attained 
especially  in  the  natural  sciences."  The  latter  have  been 
striving  to  explain  "the  origin  of  the  universe  in  all  its  mani- 
foldness,  and  in  all  the  stages  of  its  progress  up  to  man  him- 
self, without  calling  in  the  hel])  of  a  Creator  or  the  interven- 
tion of  miracles."  "  What  then  becomes  of  the  personal 
Creator,  who  is  supposed  to  have  miraculously  called  the 
universe  into  being,  and  then  the  various  orders  of  living 
things?"  "What  becomes  of  the  church,  whose  system  of 
faith  is  based  upon  a  miraculous  beginning,  a  violent  disrup- 
tion, and  a  renewed  miraculous  resumption  of  the  develop- 
ment of  the  world  and  of  the  race  ? "  * 

Such  is  the  general  and  common  object  of  both  tendencies ; 
to  be  carried  out  by  a  scientific  union  of  the  two,  and  by  a  com- 

*  Here  and  elsewhere  we  have  somewhat  altered  the  translation,  which 
as  a  whole  is  rather  indifferent.  It  is  often  constrained,  and  sometimes 
indefinite,  and  occasionally  wrong.  There  is  little  of  the  grace  and  point 
of  the  original.  Lcichtgesehiirtze  Schrift  (a  writing  loosely  knit)  is  rendered 
" a  compendious  work"  (p.  iii.);  Schwindel  is  fraud  (Tp.  xxvii.) ;  das  Uni- 
versum  is  generally  given  as  Cosmos,  which  is  hardly  adequate  ;  Strauss 
calls  Christ's  resurrection  a  "  world-historical  humbug :  "  it  is  translated  (p. 
83)  a  world-wide  deception ;  the  Sun  is  called  "  he"  and  the  Moon  "  shfe," 
which  is  neither  German  nor  English;  derartige  Zumuthungen  becomes 
"kinds  of  claims  on  their  reasoning  faculties"  (p.  15);  Bedenken  is  given 
as  "reflections,"  instead  of  "scruples."  On  p.  iv.  Strauss  says  that  those 
who  deny  Christ's  divinity  "  might  still  find  shelter  from  the  attacks  of  the 
old  orthodox  in  the  party  of  the  Proiestanien-Vereiii"  (Scheukel,  etc.),  but 
the  translation  reads^"he  would  secure  himself  against  attack  from  the 
side  of  the  orthodox  of  the  Protestant  League  ;  "  and  then  puts  an  innocent 
query  in  a  note,  viz.,  "  What  then  is  heterodoxy?  "  On  p.  1G8,  "  the  cos- 
mic conception  of  ancient  Christianity  "  should  read,  "the  Christian  con- 
ception (or  idea)  of  the  universe."  On  p.  171  the  translation  runs:  "  The 
unity  of  the  All  is  obviously  but  a  conclusion  deduced  from  analysis  ; "  the 
German  is,  '■'^  Bass  das  All  niir  eines  ist  v&rsteM  sich  wn  selbst,  ist  nxr  eiii 
analytisches  Urtheil,''''  and  should  be  rendered,  "That  the  All  is  only  one  is 
self-evident,  for  it  is  only  an  analytic  judgment."  An  "analysis"  and  an 
"  analytic  judgment  "  are  two  very  different  things.  Fechter  (p.  xviii.)  is  a 
misprint  for  "  Fechner."     Why  is  Reuan  so  often  printed  Renan  ? 


454:  THE   NEW   FAITH    OF    STKAUSS. 

billed  attack  on  all  the  articles  of  natural  religion  even,  as 
well  as  on  the  special  doctrines  of  the  Christian  faith.  The 
union  of  idealism  and  materialism  for  this  baleful  end  is  most 
distinctly  set  forth  in  §  62,  vol.  ii.,  pp.  19,  23,  of  the  translation. 
(§  66  of  the  original — for  the  sections  are  needlessly  altered 
in  the  translation.)  Strauss  has  been  trying  to  show — as  we 
shall  consider  further  on — how  motion  may  be  resolved  into 
life,  and  life  into  sensation,  and  proceeds  thus : 

"  If  any  one  here  finds  a  distinct  and  rude  materialism,  I  will  just  now 
Bay  nothing  against  it.  In  fact  I  have  always  tacitly  regarded  the  antagon- 
ism between  materialism  and  idealism  (or  however  the  view  opposed  to 
materialism  may  be  designated)  as  a  verbal  quarrel.  Both  have  their  com- 
mon foe  in  the  dualism  of  that  idea  of  the  universe  which  has  ruled  the 
whole  Christian  era,  dividing  man  into  body  and  soul,  his  existence  into  time 
and  eternity,  and  setting  an  eternal  Creator  over  against  a  created  and 
transient  world.  To  this  dualism  both  materialism  and  idealism  are  op- 
posed, because  they  strive  to  derive  the  totality  of  phenomena  from  a  single 
princiiDle,  to  construct  the  world  and  life  out  of  one  piece  :  that  is,  moimin 
is  common  to  both.  In  this,  one  starts  from  above,  the  other  from  below. 
Materialism  constructs  the  universe  out  of  atoms  and  atomic  forces.  Ideal- 
ism out  of  ideas  [  Vorstellungen — re-presentations]  and  idealistic  forces. 
But  if  they  would  fulfill  their  task,  the  one  must  descend  from  its  heights 
down  to  the  lowest  sphere  of  nature,  and  to  this  end  be  controlled  by  careful 
observations  ;  the  other  must  take  into  account  and  solve  the  highest  spir- 
itual and  moral  problems.  .  ,  .  Each  of  these  methods,  strictly  carried 
out,  leads  over  into  the  other.  .  .  .  Hence,  I  think  that  both  these 
systems  should  reserve  their  weapons  for  that  other  real  and  still  formidable 
foe,  treating  each  other,  as  confederates,  with  respect  or  at  least  with 
courtesy.  .  .  .  The  overbearing  tone,  sometimes  like  a  schoolmaster, 
again  like  an  inquisitor,  which  some  philosophers  like  to  assume  towards 
the  natural  sciences,  is  quite  as  blamable,  and  even  unwise,  as  is  on  the 
other  hand  the  coarse  abuse  of  philosophy  with  which  materialists  rather 
amuse  than  edify  us. " 

On  the  other  hand,  he  claims  that  scientific  men  should  "  not 
relegate  meta^^hysics  into  the  lumber-room  with  astrology  and 
alchemy."  Its  "  moulting  "  time  is  passing  away  ;  its  "  plum- 
age "  will  grow  again.  Now  it  is  chiefly  occupying  itself  with 
its  own  history.  And  the  naturalist  needs  it  to  instruct  him ; 
for  "  the  most  delicate  instruments  with  which  he  is  now 
working,  the  concepts  of  force  and  matter,  essence  and  niani- 


THE  NEW  PKOGKAMME  AS  DEFINED  BY  STRAUSS.   455 

festation,  cause  and  effect,  etc.,  can  be  accurately  shaped  only 
by  metaphysics,  and  applied  only  by  logic ;  and  on  the  ulti- 
mate questions  about  beginning  and  end,  limits  and  the 
illimitable,  purpose  and  casualty  in  the  world,  philosophy  is 
indispensable."  Tlie  present  state  of  scientific  investigation, 
too,  exhibits  signs  of  a  reaction  from  "  the  coyness  with  which 
it  has  tieated  speculation."  The  "  general  interest  in  Dar- 
winism is  owing  to  the  infinite  perspective  which  it  discloses." 
"  The  speculative  philosophy  of  nature  did  indeed  embrace  a 
cloud  instead  of  a  Juno,  and  hence  brought  forth  no  fruit ; 
but  the  theory  of  Darwin  is  the  first  child  of  the  marriage,  as 
yet  only  secret,  between  natural  science  and  philosophy." 
And  this,  as  he  goes  on  to  show,  is  because  that  theory  will 
expel  from  nature  all  the  evidences  of  design,  and  all  trace  of 
the  supernatural — leaving  only  an  unconscious  development. 

Such  is  the  programme,  clearly  defined.  Idealism  and 
materialism  (deduction  and  induction)  are  to  become  one  ;  and 
to  become  one,  we  add,  by  the  tlieory  of  E\'olution.  A  de- 
structive historical  criticism,  striving  to  aimihilate  Christianity 
by  a  denial  of  the  supernatural,  is  to  clasp  inseparable  hands 
with  the  natural  sciences,  resting  on  the  same  negation.  Tlie 
pantheistic  intuition  is  to  be  left  in  the  rear,  scientific  inves- 
tigation comes  to  the  front ;  evolution  connects  and  combines 
the  two  in  one  formidable  host ;  and  the  common  object  of 
their  hostility  is  the  Christian  church.  Around  and  against 
the  very  citadel  of  our  faith  are  encamped  the  two  beleagur- 
ing  armies.  Though  hitherto  opposite  and  opposed,  why  not 
extend  their  lines  and  unite  ?  Ilerod  and  Pilate  were  once 
made  friends,  though  before  they  had  been  at  enmity  with 
one  another. 

This  is  the  "  New  Faith "  against  the  "  Old."  And  the 
argument  of  the  work  consists  in  showing  how  far,  in  the 
present  state  of  criticism  and  science,  this  result  may  be  said 
to  be  attainable,  or  at  least  foreshadowed.  It  is,  in  fact, 
chiefly  foreshadowed  by  lines  largely  drawn  from  the  specu- 
lative imagination.  For  Strauss  has  a  spirit  of  divination  : 
when  facts  fail,  and  gaps  yawn,  he  predicts.     Again  and  again 


456  THE    NEW    FAITH    OF    STKAUSS. 

he  says  to  an  incredulous  generation,  "  Yery  well ;  but  others 
will  come  who  will  understand  them  [the  new  theories],  and 
who  will  also  have  understood  ineP  (ii.,  lU.)  He  closes  his 
Postscript  with  the  words  of  an  exalted  self -consciousness : 
"  The  day  will  come,  as  it  canie  for  the  '  Life  of  Jesus,'  when 
my  book  shall  be  nndei'Stt)od — only  this  time  I  shall  not  live 
to  see  it."  His  oracle,  unlike  the  Delphic,  utters  no  uncer- 
tain sound.  H  it  had  been  more  ambiguous,  it  might  have 
been  quite  as  likely  to  be  fulfilled. 

The  general  plan  is  carried  out  in  the  body  of  the  work  by 
proposing  four  questions:  1.  "Ave  we  still  Christians?"  2. 
"  Have  we  still  a  Religion  ?  "  3.  "  What  is  our  Conception 
of  the  Universe  %  "     4.  "  What  is  our  Rule  of  Life  %  " 

The  "  we  "  here  is  limited  and  oracular.  It  is  first  of  all, 
he  says,  "  a  simple  I  who  speaks,  apparently  occupying  a 
singularly  isolated  position  ; "  but  he  speaks  in  the  name  of 
"a  multitude  who  call  in  question  the  need  of  a  distinct 
society  like  the  churcli,  by  the  side  of  state  and  the  school,  of 
science  and  art,  the  common  property  of  all."  This  "  we,"  as 
appears  from  subsequent  avowals,  d(jes  not  stand  for  a  society, 
or  in  fact  for  any  large  number  of  mankind — l)ut  only  for 
those  who  den}^  God  and  inunortality,  and  think  the  church 
to  be  the  greatest  foe  to  human  progress.  It  does  not  stand  for 
scientific  men  as  a  class,  but  for  some  "  scientists ; "  not  for 
speculative  philosophers  as  a  body,  but  for  those  of  them  who 
would  fain  construct  a  universe  for  themselves.  And  it  is 
meant  to  exclude  all  who  have  any  faith  in  Christianity  or 
even  in  natural  religion.  These  are  the  "  we  "  represented 
in  the  questions ;  and,  as  addressed  to  them,  the  answer  can- 
not be  equivocal.  His  purpose,  he  adds,  is  not  (p.  xxxii.) "  con- 
troversy with  those  who  differ,  but  an  understanding  with 
those  who  agj-ee  with  us."  He  would  not  disturb  the  "  faith 
of  any  one."  And  yet  his  book  is  an  attempt  to  subvert 
Christianity  and  all  religion.  He  innocently  expresses  his 
surprise  and  aimoyance  at  the  attacks  made  upon  him  from  so 
many  quarters.     Such  martyrdom  is  histrionic. 

As  compared  with  his  previous  writiiigs,  the  tone  of  his 


EVEKYTIIING    OR   NOTHING.  457 

discussions  is  lowered ;  in  becoming  popular,  he  is  often 
well-nigh  frivolous,  after  the  manner  of  the  French  infidelity 
— as  if  he  would  rival  Renan  in  this  field  as  well  as  in  poli- 
tics. It  is  an  appeal  to  the  eager  ear  of  the  men  of  the  world, 
rather  than  to  the  men  of  thought.  Science  is  popularized  for 
the  multitude — why  not  also  pantheism  and  materialism? 
Among  the  middle  and  lower  classes  of  Germany  there  is  a 
growing  infidelity,  based  on  a  practical  materialism;  and  to 
them  Strauss,  the  idealist,  addresses  himself  in  a  style  adapted 
to  secure  their  applause.  He  is  willing  to  lielp  on  a  reckless 
infidelity  by  rude  thrusts  and  bitter  sarcasm.  He  brings 
forwai'd  no  new  fruits  of  scholarly  investigation  ;  every  ob- 
jection he  urges  against  Christ  and  the  gxjspels  is  familiar  to 
students,  and  has  been  ably  met  by  the  Christian  apologists 
of  Germany  and  other  lands.  There  is  a  plausible  array  of 
hackneyed  difiiculties,  enforced  by  a  skilled  ihetoj-ic.  lie 
appeals  to  that  class  of  persons  of  whom  Bishop  Butler  says, 
"  that  Christianity  is  to  them  not  so  much  as  a  subject  of 
inquiry,  but  that  it  is  now  at  length  discovered  to  be  fictitious." 
Yet  it  must  be  conceded  that  he  reserves  his  bitterest  scorn 
for  those  half-way  believers,  those  covert  infidels,  who  deny 
the  essential  doctrines  of  Christianity  and  still  ])rofess  to 
receive  it :  who  deride  the  supernatural,  and,  through  custom 
or  from  interest,  pretend  to  uphold  the  faith.  ''  Christian 
worship,"  he  says  (i.  p.  55),  ''  this  garment  cut  out  to  fit  an 
incarnate  God,  looks  slovenly  and  shapeless  when  a  mere 
man  is  invested  with  its  ample  folds."  If  Christ  were  only 
a  man,  "  how  could  he  dare  to  use  such  tremendous  words  as, 
'  I  and  the  Father  are  one  ;  who  seeth  rae  seeth  the  Father 
also.'  .  .  .  We  should  lose  our  faith  in  the  soundness  of 
his  reason,  if  compelled  to  believe  that  in  prayer  he  reminded 
God  of  the  glory  he  had  with  him  before  the  world  was." 
(i.  56.)  In  attending  the  services  of  a  Free  Congregation  in 
IBerlin  he  found  them  "  terribly  dry  and  unedifying.  I  quite 
thirsted  for  an  allusion  to  the  Biblical  legend  or  the  Chris- 
tian calendar.  .  .  .  After  the  edifice  of  the  church  is 
demolished,  to  go  and  give  a  lecture  on  the  bare,  imperfectly 


458  THE    NEW   FAITH    OF    STRAUSS. 

levelled  site  is  dismal  to  a  degree  that  is  awful.  Either  every- 
thing or  nothing."  (ii.  llS.j  That  is  his  stern  alternative — 
everything  or  nothing. 

I.   Are  we  still  Christians  ? 

This  question  is  disposed  of  in  less  than  a  hundred  pages, 
by  exhil)iting  the  main  articles  of  the  Christian  faith,  and  the 
recorded  facts  of  the  gospel,  in  a  crude,  disjointed,  and  dis- 
torted form — as  these  have  been  represented  by  their  oppo- 
nents rather  than  by-  their  wise  defenders.  He  knows  noth- 
ing but  objections  to  the  faith ;  hardly  in  a  single  instance 
does  he  notice  the  replies.  He  first  describes  the  dogmas, 
following  the  order  of  the  Apostles'  Creed  ;  and  any  candid 
historian  must  say  that  his  representations  of  them  is  a  trav- 
esty. The  Trinity  is  but  a  mathematical  puzzle — ''  how  one 
can  be  three  and  three  one ; "  the  narrative  of  the  creation  is 
to  be  taken  as  simply  literal ;  the  fall  involves  all  of  Adam's 
posteritj^ — so  that  none,  even  of  infants,  except  the  baptized, 
can  be  saved  ;  the  atonement  is  a  commercial  transaction, 
"  revolting  to  eveiy  principle  of  justice,"  resting  on  a  "  bar- 
barous conception,"  a  "perfect  jumble  of  the  crudest  concep- 
tions ; "  the  Person  of  Christ  "  savors  of  mytliology,  onl}^  that 
Greek  incarnations  appear  to  us  more  felicitously  invented 
than  this  Christian  one ; "  all  are  dannied  but  a  chosen  few — • 
"the  number  of  the  reprobate  infinitely  exceeds  that  of  the 
elect."  (i.  37.)  And  so  on  thj-ough  many  a  dreary  page. 
All  this  is  in  strikino-  contrast  with  tlie  idealizino-  of  Christian 
doctrine  found  in  Strauss'  earlier  works;  *  and  it  is  so  maiii- 
festlj'  perverse  that  we  need  not  dwell  upon  it. 

Of  course  it  is  impossible  to  go  into  a  detailed  reply  to 
Strauss  on  the  Gospels ;  but  we  may  saj-  a  word  as  to  his 
general  method.  The  Gospels,  in  their  present  form,  he  holds 
to  have  been  written  long  after  the  recorded  events ;  in  the 
case  of  John,  toward  the  middle  of  the  second  century.  In 
criticising  them  he   peremptoril}'  challenges   every  passage 


Vera,  in  his  volume  on  Strauss,  g§  3  to  5,  develops  this  point  at  length. 


NOTHING    ABOUT    CHRIST    TO    BE    SUKELY    KNOWX.  459 

wliich  contains  anything  proplietic  or  anything  miraculous : 
because  the  supernatural  has  no  existence  for  a  philosophical 
critic.  He  does  not  condescend  to  notice  the  arguments  for 
the  genuineness  and  authenticity  of  the  documents — that 
case  is  no  longer  sub  jiidice ;  he  settled  it  in  his  "Life  of 
Jesus."  He  claims  that  there  is  no  important  fact  about 
Christ,  or  noteworthy  saying  ascribed  to  him,  of  which  we 
can  be  wholly  sui-e.  "  We  cannot  make  sure  of  the  sayings 
and  teachings  of  Christ  on  any  one  jpoint^  whether  we  have 
his  own  words  and  thoughts,  or  only  such  as  later  times  find 
it  convenient  to  ascribe  to  him."  (i.  %^.)  "  So  many  and 
such  essential  facts  in  the  life  of  Jesus  are  not  established, 
that  neither  are  we  clearly  cognizant  of  his  aims  nor  the 
mode  and  degree  in  which  he  hoped  to  realize  them."  "  A 
being  with  distinct  features,  capable  of  affording  a  definite 
conception,  is  only  to  be  found  in  the  Christ  of  faith  and  of 
legend."  (i.  90.)  "  ISTot  because  of  what  he  was,  but  because 
of  what  he  was  7iot,  ....  has  he  been  made  the  cen- 
tral point  of  a  church,  of  a  worship."     (pp.  xxvi.-vii.) 

And  yet,  when  Strauss  would  say  anything  to  the  discredit 
of  Christ,  expose  his  local  "  prejudices,"  represent  him  as  the 
"  victim  of  delusions,"  or  an  "  enthusiast  "  (i.  92)  ;  prove  that 
his  death  took  him  "  by  surprise  "  (p.  T8) ;  depict  him  as  hold- 
ing that  he  would  actually  "  be  enthroned  in  the  clouds  of 
heaven  ; "  and  set  him  forth  as  no  more  sinless  than  other 
men  (p.  xxvii.),  he  appeals  to  these  same  untrustworthy  gos- 
pels as  giving  sufficient  evidence.*  Their  testimony  against 
liim  may  be  received ;  their  testimony  for  him  is  invariably 
rejected.  "He  cannot  be,". says  Strauss,  "the  centre  of  our 
religious  life,  for  our  knowledge  of  him  is  too  fragmentary  ; 
he  cannot  be  the  support  of  that  life,  for  what  xve  do  know 
about  him  indicates  a  person  of  fantastic  fanaticism."  (p.  xxvi.) 

The  inevitable  results  of  this  arbitrary  criticism  are  most 


*  Several  of  these  points  rest  in  fact  chiefly  on  the  Gospel  of  John,  wliich 
Strauss  holds  to  be  the  least  authentic  of  all  as  a  biography.  Renan, 
who  urges  like  objections,  assigned  a  much  higher  place  to  this  gospel;  and 
Strauss  reproached  him  for  it. 


460  THE   NEW    FAITH    OF    STKAUSS. 

fully  exhibited  in  what  he  says  about  the  Resurrection  of 
Christ.  He  declares  (i.  82),  "that  it  has  not  the  slightest 
foundation.  Rarely  has  an  incredible  fact  been  worse  at- 
tested, or  one  so  ill-attested  been  more  incredible  in  itself.  .  .  . 
Taken  historically,  i.  e.,  comparing  the  immense  effect  of  this 
belief  with  its  absolute  baselessness,  the  story  of  the  resur- 
rection of  Jesns  can  only  be  called  a  world-historical  hnm- 
bug."*  Christ's  teachings  and  influence,  he  adds,  would  have 
been  all  lost  but  for  this  ''humbug  :  "  they  "  would  have  been 
blown  away  and  scattered  like  solitary  leaves  by  the  wind, 
had  they  not  been  held  together  and  thus  preserved  by  a 
superstitions  belief  in  his  i-esurrection."  This  "hnmbug" 
was  the  fonndation  of  tne  Christian  Church ! 

The  critical  method  (if  so  it  can  be  called),  by  which  such 
results  are  reached,  is  clogged  with  fatal  defects,  even  as  a 
method.  It  rests  on  certain  presumptions  or  unproved  pos- 
tulates, which  alone  gives  to  it  a  seeming  force;  and  if  ap- 
plied elsewhere  as  here,  it  would  lead  to  utter  historical  scep- 
ticism. To  all  candid  and  even  stringent  criticism,  as  applied 
in  a  true  historic  method,  no  one  need  object.  Criticism  has 
its  rights.  But  it  has  no  right,  while  professing  to  be  im- 
partial, to  prejudge  and  predetermine  the  results  by  its  ille- 
gitimate assumptions. 

Strauss  assumes,  and  nowhere  establishes,  the  non-existence 
of  the  supernatural.  Ilis  un demonstrated  major  premise  is — 
that  there  is  no  God,  that  there  cannot  be  any  supernatural 
agency  an^^ where  in  the  universe:  just  as  Hume's  argument 
against  miracles  rests  on  the  same  silent  pre-conception.  This 
preamble  determines  the  method.  It  is  really  valid  only  for 
pantheists  and  atheists,  also  for  some  deists.  It  does  not  rest 
on  science,  nor  is  it  controlled  by  testimony  :  it  rests  on,  it  is 
controlled  by,  disbelief.  This  negation  of  belief,  and  this 
alone,  makes  it  seem  destructive.     The  non-existence  of  the 

*  So  the  original.  The  translator  has  seen  fit  to  modify  this  audacious 
statement  into  the  phrase — "  a  world-wide  deception."  Strauss,  to  show 
his  repugnance  to  the  fact,  transferred  a  revolting  word  from  the  English  ; 
but  the  English  translator  must  needs  tone  it  down. 


COVERT    ATHEISM   THE   BASIS    OF    STRAUSs'    CRITICISM.         461 

superaatural — that  idol  of  an  atheistic  generation — makes  the 
M-hole  undermining  process  an  easy  w(.)]k.  In  fact,  there  is 
no  need  of  demolishing  a  building  when  the  foundations  are 
swept  awaj.  If  there  be  no  God,  Sti-anss  is  right — the  whole 
case  is  exhausted :  all  the  rest  is  a  vain  show  of  argument. 
If  there  be  a  God — then  all  that  is  supernatural  in  the  Gos- 
pels is  true,  if  established  by  unimpeachable  and  sufficient 
historical  evidence.  A  criticism  based  on  a  covert  atheism  is 
forcible  oidy  for  atheists.  And  the  pretension  that  only  pan- 
theists and  materialists  can  be  impartial — tliat  they  alone  seek 
the  truth  for  its  own  sake — that  other  people  only  have  pre- 
possessions and  pi-ejudices,  is  too  preposterous  to  need  refuta- 
tion. The  impartiality  which  Strauss  extols  is  simply  indif- 
ference or  hostility  to  all  religious  belief. 

This  criticism,  so  far  as  w^e  can  now  consider  it,  is  espe- 
cially unfair  and  unsound  in  its  application  to  two  main 
points :  1.  To  the  Christ  of  history  ;  2.  To  historical  Chris- 
tianity. 

1.  I?i  respect  to  the  Christ  of?iistory,  it  is  not  true,  on  any 
recognized  canon  of  historical  evidence,  that  "  there  are,"  as 
Strauss  asserts,  "few  historical  personages  of  whom  we  have 
such  unsatisfactory  information  as  of  him."  (Preface,  p. 
xxvi.)  If  true,  it  would  certainly  be  a  most  extraordinary 
result  in  respect  to  the  only  man  wdio  has  won  and  kept  the 
love  and  trust  of  the  race  for  eighteen  centuries  ;  and  Avhose 
2')ersonal  influence  is  unpai-alleled  and  greater  now  than  ever 
before.  It  is  a  wild  imagination,  and  not  a  result  reached 
by  the  ordinary  tests  of  historical  credibility.  In  respect  to 
no  ancient  personage  are  there  so  many  historic  documents 
and  so  nearly  contemporaneous.  AVhat  do  we  know  of 
Zoroaster  and  Confucius,  of  Alexander  and  Caesar,  of  Solon 
and  Socrates  even,  compared  with  the  biographies  of  Jesus  of 
Nazareth  ?  Sakhya-Muni  (Buddha)  is  the  favorite  modern 
rival,  set  up  by  modern  infidelity  in  comparison  with 
Christ ;  *  as  Apollonius  of  Tyana  was  the  counterpart  among 

*  See  Strauss,  S  23  of  translation. 


462  THE   NEW    FAITH    OF    STRAUSS. 

the  ancient  heathen  opponents  of  Christianity  —  and  the 
heatlien  made  out  a  better  case  than  the  moderns.  The  life 
of  the  fonnder  of  Buddhism  is  yagne,  fragmentary,  and 
mei'ely  traditional ;  his  doctrine  is  indefinite  and  obscnre ; 
but  he  was  a  pantheist  and  nihilist — and  hence  he  is  glorified 
as  a  saint  by  the  "  new  faith." 

The  infidel  case  against  the  Christ  of  history  is  made  out 
only  by  an  arbitrary  rejection  of  all  the  records.  When  it  is 
assumed  that  all  that  is  wonderful  in  the  gospels  must  be 
unhistorical,  a  legend  of  tivadition,  and  in  fact  that  no  testi- 
mony can  establish  these  facts — such  torture  may  extract  the 
conclusion  that  we  know  almost  nothing  about  Christ ;  for 
there  is  hardly  anything  recorded  of  him  unmixed  with  a 
supernatural  element.  Concede  the  possibility  of  a  divine 
revelation,  and  all  is  simple  and  clear;  deny  this,  and  the 
most  wonderful  history  in  the  world,  the  most  artless  and 
sincere,  credited  by  the  race  as  no  other  story  has  been,  be- 
comes visionary  and  fantastic — such  a  mingling  of  wilful  de- 
lusion and  blind  credulity  and  wide-spread  collusion  and 
fraud  as  is  without  parallel  and  beyond  imagination.  One 
might  as  well  take  out  of  Dante's  Divine  Comedy  all  the 
supernatural  elements,  and  then  declare  that  epic  to  be  a 
failure,  as  take  from  Christ's  life  its  superhuman  character- 
istics, and  draw  the  conclusion  that  there  is  hardly  a  word  or 
deed  of  his  of  which  we  are  sure. 

The  dates  of  no  writings  have  been  so  recklessly  tampei-ed 
with,  on  purely  subjective  grounds,  and  on  mere  technicalities 
of  evidence,  against  the  general  consent  of  historical  testi- 
mony, as  have  those  of  the  Gospels,  and  several  of  Paul's 
Epistles.  But  give  to  this  destructive  criticism  the  fullest 
sweep,  bring  the  first  three  gospels,  as  we  now  have  them, 
down  to  the  latter  part  of  the  first  century,*  and  we  have 

*  Even  among  Baur's  disciples  there  are  significant  indications  that  the 
day  is  past  of  wild  hypotheses  as  to  the  date  of  the  Gospels.  The  gospel 
of  John,  which  Strauss  did  not  give  up  until  the  third  edition  of  his  "  Life 
of  Jesus  "  appeared,  and  which  Baur  assigned  to  the  middle  of  the  second 
century,  is  said  by  Keira,  in  his  Life  of  Christ,  to  be  not  later  than  110  to 


WITNESS    OF    HISTORY    TO    THE    CHRISTIAN    RECORDS.         4G3 

still  the  ixcts  of  the  Apostles,  four  Epistles  of  Paul  which  no 
one  doubts  (Romans,  1  and  2  Corinthians,  and  Galatians), 
epistles  from  Peter  and  James,  the  Revelation  — and  some  of 
the  Apostolic  Fathers :  and  all  these  testify  to  all  the  essen- 
tial facts  and  doctrines  of  our  faith ;  notably,  in  the  case  of 
Paul,  to  that  "  historical  humbug  "  on  which  "'  Christianity 
is  built  " — the  Resurrection  of  its  Founder.*  Nowhere  in 
all  ancient  testimony  can  the  line  be  drawn  between  fact  and 
legend,  between  a  genuine  early  tradition  and  an  assumed 
later  accretion  of  myths  ;  for  there  is  no  external  evidence 
whatever  that  the  so-called  legends  and  myths  were  of  a  later 
date.  Blot  out  remorselessly  all  the  records  of  the  first  cen- 
tury, and  they  are  all  recoverable  in  the  writings  of  the 
Fathers  and  other  witnesses  of  the  second  and  third  centu- 
ries— as  something  handed  down  to  them.  And  then,  too, 
there  is  the  attestation  of  a  history  which  can  never  be  re- 
versed— the  history  of  the  church  itself,  its  undeniable  faith 
in  the  very  facts  and  doctrines  which  are  found  in  our  earli- 
est records  ;  its  heroism  and  its  marvellous  victories  ;  and  all 
confirmed  by  such  a  cloud  of  witnesses  as  is  found  for  no 
other  series  of  facts  in  human  history.  And  in  all  and 
through  all  are  the  facts  of  Christ's  life,  which  became  the 
creed  and  tradition  of  the  chui-ch  and  gave  to  it  its  power. 
Christianity  has  a  history  ;  the  infidel  theories  are  essentially 
unhistoric.  Deny  the  miracles  of  Christ's  life,  and  the  mira- 
cle of  tlie  Church  abides.  Resolve  the  history  into  a  myth, 
and  still  the  fact  remains,  that  the  idea  of  a  sinless,  crucified 
and  risen  Saviour  has  ruled  the  earth  and  shaped  its  story. 

Such  a iJriori  criticisms  of  historical  characters  and  events 
must  lead,  wherever  applied,  to  historical  scepticism.     No 

115  ;  Ewald  and  Weizsiicker  date  it.  at  the  dose  of  the  first  century.  Renan 
still  holds  to  its  partial  authenticity.  The  first  three  gospels  are  assigned 
to  the  first  century  by  Kostlin,  and  even  by  Volkmar  and  Hilgenfeld. 
Holtzman  puts  them  between  70  and  80.  Outside  of  the  most  advanced 
critics  there  are  still  greater  concessions.  See,  for  example,  the  later 
editions  of  Meyer's  commentaries  ;  and  such  treatises  as  that  of  Tischen- 
dorf  :  "  When  were  our  Gospels  written  ?  "  etc. 

*  See  the  admirable  book  of  VVestcott  on  the  Gospel  of  the  Resurrection. 


464  THE    NEW    FAITH    OF   STRAUSS. 

man  can  forecast  history  by  mere  specnlation,  nor  can  he 
imdermine  it  by  arbitrary  canons,  by  personal  and  subjective 
preconceptions.  Personal  scepticism  begets  historical  scepti- 
cism. There  may  be  haUncinations  in  a  critic  as  well  as  in 
Christ  and  his  apostles  and  the  whole  Christian  church.  The 
real  question  at  issue  is  the  reality  of  the  supernatural :  admit 
it,  and  Strauss'  argument  is  worthless;  deny  it,  and  it  is 
superfluous. 

This  StrauBsian  critique,  however,  is  not  merely  a  denial 
of  the  divine  element  in  Christ  and  his  work ;  it  necessarily 
leads  to  a  degradation  of  the  human.  Of  course  any  such 
ideal  humanity  as  Schleiermacher  depicts,  and  as  Strauss 
once  seemed  to  adopt,  is  denied.  Jesus  is  to  him  no  longer 
"  the  great  religious  genius  of  the  race  ; "  in  no  sense  is  he 
still  the  consummate  flower  of  humanity.*  The  aureole  with 
which  he  has  been  glorified  by  many  an  infidel  is  completely 
dispersed  ;  modern  science  has  disenchanted  the  race  of  even 
this  lingering  delusion.  Goethe  could  say:  "  In  the  Gospels 
there  is  the  reflection  of  a  majesty,  radiating  from  the  person 
of  Christ,  of  so  divine  a  character  as  never  elsewhere  appear- 
ed upon  the  earth.  If  I  am  asked  whether  it  is  in  my  nature 
to  pay  him  reverential  homage,  I  reply,  undoubtedly  !  I  bow 
before  him  as  the  divine  revelation  of  the  highest  principle 
of  morality."  But  Strauss  consistently  denies  his  moral  per- 
fection :  this  "  disappeared  with  supernaturab'sm,  and  is 
henceforth  to  be  reckoned  only  as  a  delusion "  (p.  xxvii.). 
Even  his  moral  precepts,  it  is  declared,  were  all  anticipated  ; 
many  virtues  he  ignored,  while  some  he  could  not  exem])lify 
(p.  95).  Strauss  tests  the  worth  of  Christ's  precepts  by  their 
bearing  upon  commerce  and  property,  civil  life  and  state 
laws,  science  and  the  arts,  rather  than  by  their  relation  to  the 

*  lu  Strauss'  essay  on  "The  Permanent  and  Transient  in  Christianity" 
(the  forerunner  of  Theodore  Parker's  noted  sermon  with  that  title),  he  ad- 
vocates "  the  worship  of  genius  as  the  only  worship  which  remains  for  the 
cultivated  class  of  our  days."  Of  Christ  he  there  says:  "  As  humanity  can 
never  exist  without  religion,  so  it  can  never  exist  without  Christ.  .  .  . 
And  this  Christ,  so  far  as  he  is  inseparable  from  the  highest  form  of  religion, 
is  historical  and  not  mythical,  an  individual  and  not  a  mere  symbol." 


FALLACY    AND   FOLLY    OF    STKAUSS'    METHOD,  465 

permanent  religions  and  spiritnal  needs  of  the  race.  It  is 
even  doubtful,  he  says,  whether  it  was  "  not  Paul  rather  tlian 
Jesus  "  who  preached  a  Gospel  "  for  the  race  "  (p.  6S).  "  We 
cannot  be  certain  whether  he  did  not  at  the  last  lose  faith  in 
himself  and  his  mission  "  (p.  88).  Of  his  nature  we  "  catch 
only  fitful  glimpses  "  (p.  90) ;  he  was  at  the  best  an  "  enthusi- 
ast "  and  even  ."  a  fanatic."  If  he  were  only  "  a  human  hero," 
and  "nursed  the  expectation"  of  deliverance  from  the  power 
of  death,  then  in  his  very  crucifixion  we  see  that  so  ''  enthusi- 
astic an  expectation  but  receives  its  deserts  when  it  is  mocked 
by  miscarriage  "  (p.  90).  And  herein  Strauss  is  consistent : 
for  there  is  no  middle  ground.  If  Jesus  be  not  the  incar- 
nation of  divinity,  he  is  the  most  daring  enthusiast,  deceiving 
or  deceived,  the  world  has  known. 

He  does  not  even  leave  to  him  that  inspiring  influence, 
that  majestic  power,  which  belongs  to  the  heroes  and  geniuses 
of  the  race.  In  such  men  there  is  always  an  element  which 
cannot  be  deduced — the  magic  of  an  august  personality. 
Creative  geniuses  transform  the  world.  They  are  impossible 
until  they  come  upon  the  stage,  the  nnprophesied  prophets 
of  the  future,  who  supersede  tradition  and  give  an  impulse 
to  history.  But  in  the  mythology  of  Strauss  all  the  benignant 
and  transforming  power  of  Christianity  is  represented  by  no 
real  hero  or  sage,  but  by  one  who  became  great  "  not  for 
what  he  was,  but  for  what  he  was  not."  The  greatest  epoch 
in  human  history  was  evolved  from  the  most  delusive  and  in- 
credible fiction  which  the  human  imagination  ever  invented. 

2.  I?i  its  Relation  to  Historical  Christianity,  the  critical 
method  pursued  by  Strauss  is  equally  unsound  and  fallacious. 
It  rests,  to  a  large  extent,  upon  a  fundamental  misconception 
of  tlie  real  nature  of  the  Christian  church,  as  a  part  of  human 
history.  To  distort  and  caricature  certain  dogmas ;  to  sweep 
a  drag-net  through  the  conceits  and  aberrations  of  fathers 
and  schoolmen  and  some  human  creeds ;  to  set  the  Scriptures 
aside  and  cite  the  very  puerilities  of  doctrinal  tradition :  all 
this  only  shows  that  even  the  historic  creed  of  Christendom 
must  first  be  perverted  in  order  that  it  may  be  vilified ; 
30 


4:66  THE    NEW    FAITH    OF    STRAUSS. 

but   it  does  not  touch  the  living  essence  of  the  Christian 
clinrch. 

For  Christianity  is  not  founded  in  creeds  or  dogmas.  To  a 
certain  extent  Hume's  sarcasm  is  true,  that  '•  Christianity  is 
not  founded  in  argument."  The  facts  of  our  faith  antedate 
its  dogmas  ;  the  dogmas  do  not  make,  but  express,  the  facts. 
All  the  human  creeds  that  were  ever  framed  are  but  partial, 
fragmentary  ex2:>ressions  of  the  great  original — reflected  and 
broken  lights  of  that  one  Liglit  which  lighteth  every  man  that 
coraeth  into  the  world.  The  living  reality  is  in  historic  facts, 
which  have  shaped  every  syllable  of  the  records  and  every 
formula  of  Christian  doctrine. 

Christianity — would  that  we  could  see  and  grasp  this  vital 
point ! — Christianity  is  not  a  creed,  not  a  dogma,  not  a  system 
of  theology,  but  it  is  essentially  historic  fact — a  sublime,  in- 
carnated spiritual  reality — the  most  real  historic  power  which, 
for  centuries  (in  its  elements  from  the  very  beginning),  has 
controlled  the  grandest  evolution  upon  the  earth — the  historic 
development  of  the  human  race.  It  is  as  unrivalled  and 
unique  in  human  history  as  is  the  sacred  Person  of  its  head 
and  centre ;  it  is,  as  the  faith  of  the  church  declares,  the 
living  presence  of  that  Person  in  history  itself.  The  living 
Christ  stands  first  and  central,  and  then  his  apostles,  and  then 
the  church,  and  then  the  simple  creed,  and  then  the  canon, 
and  then  the  conflicts,  and  then  the  dogmas,  and  tlien  the 
systems  of  theology,  and  so  on  through  the  centuries  :  and  in 
and  through  all  a  living,  spiritual  power,  comparable  only  to 
the  life  of  nature.  And  last  of  all  come  they  also  who  say 
that  its  very  substance  is  found  in  crude  and  contradictory 
dogmas,  which  can  be  upset  by  a  sneer !  And  this  Christian- 
ity, so  sublime  as  an  objective  fact,  becomes  subjectively  a 
renovating  power — the  life  of  God  in  the  soul  of  man — the 
mysterious  consciousness  of  an  unearthly  p»resence  in  the  soul 
— God  in  Christ  reconciling  the  world  unto  himself — the 
highest  form  of  spiritual  life — no  more  dependent  uj^on 
theories  and  critics  than  is  the  health  of  tlie  body  upon 
the  spe(;ulations  of  physiologists  and  pathologists.     And  this 


CHRISTIANITY   AND   THE   LAW    OF   EVOLUTION.  467 

victorious  historic  faith,  and  this  internal  spiritual  conviction, 
are  no  more  made  in  the  way  wdiich  such  criticism  represents 
than  the  life  of  the  earth  or  its  evolutions  by  the  theories  of 
geologists  and  "  scientists."  A  state  cannot  be  overthrown  by 
refuting  the  schemes  of  publicists,  for  the  state  lives  and 
grows  by  its  own  law.  And  Christianity  was  made  by  the 
Make]-  of  history.  Those  who  are  constructing  and  recon- 
structing it,  and  attempting  to  demolish  it  by  rjefuting  some 
human  theories  about  it,  might  about  as  well  claim  that  they 
can  reconstruct  and  demolish  the  visible  universe  by  a  new 
theory,  which  refutes  the  dogmas  of  all  the  speculative  world- 
builders  who  have  gone  before.  Vast  material  forces,  guided 
by  divine  power  and  wisdom,  control  the  development  of  the 
earth ;  equally  vast  spiritual  forces  guide  and  guard  the 
course  of  history  and  the  destiny  of  Christianity.  A  scheme 
for  its  demolition  and  reconstruction,  drawn  up  by  the  new 
prophets,  is  quite  akin  to  the  political  pronuuciamentos  and 
paper  constitutions  of  Communists  and  Internationals — what 
the  latter  are  to  the  state  the  former  are  to  the  church. 

The  very  law  of  Evolution  itself  (at  least  so  far  as  it  has 
been  at  all  verified)  when  applied  to  human  history,  might  at 
least  give  as  much  probability  to  the  further  development  of 
Christianity  as  to  its  extinction.  Christianity  has  undeniably 
been  evolved  in  human  history,  and  has  in  fact  largely  or- 
ganized it.  It  has  all  the  criteria  of  a  development  as  these 
are  given  by  evolutionists  themselves — inward  force,  natural 
selection,  survival  of  the  fittest.  Who  knows  its  reserve  of 
might  ?  its  latent  possibilities  ?  The  experience  of  the  past 
would  seem  to  favor  the  confident  piredictiou  of  greater  mar- 
vels yet  to  come.  Or  if,  again,  evolution  may  in  any  case  be 
so  far  arrested  or  completed,  that  it  can  stop,  for  example, 
with  man  as  the  summit  and  acme  of  creation  (which  is  taken 
for  granted  by  Strauss  and  others),  then  why  may  it  not  have 
reached  its  height,  so  far  as  religion  is  concerned,  in  Chris- 
tianity ?  If  it  may  carry  on  man,  substantially  as  he  is,  to  a 
more  perfect  development,  why  not  the  Christian  system  also  ? 
Who  can  set  bounds  to  its  indefinite  possibilities  ?    May  it 


4:68  ■  THE   NEW   FAITH    OF    STEAFSS. 

Hot  be  SO  applied  as  to  give  a  rational  conviction,  that  that 
august  Christian  faith,  which  is  by  common  confession  the 
highest  form  of  religion,  may  go  on  conquering  and  to  con- 
quer? And  even  now,  while  it  is  abandoned  by  some  the- 
orists, dizzied  by  excess  of  speculation,  and  by  some  "  scien- 
tists," blinded  by  excess  of  matter — it  is  planting  its  churches 
at  the  ends  of  the  earth.  What  weapon  fashioned  against  it 
has  yet  prospered  ?  From  what  decisive  battle-field  has  as 
yet  gone  up  any  other  cry  than  that  memorable  one,  so  true 
in  fact  even  if  of  doubtful  origin,  which  went  up  of  old  from 
the  defeated,  despairing,  and  expiring  heathendom :  "  Thou 
hast  conquered,  O  Galilean  !  " 

This  Straussian  construction  of  Christian  history  makes  any 
philosophy  of  history  well-nigh  impossible — especially  as  a  de- 
velopment or  evolution.  It  not  only  sacrifices  all  profounder 
views  of  history,  but  it  must  make  the  whole  religious  history 
of  mankind — which  is  the  centre  of  all  history — to  be  a  delu- 
sion, a  mockery,  ending  only  in  despair.  For  eighteen  cen- 
turies, as  nobody  can  deny,  Christianity  has  virtually  ruled 
the  course  of  empire :  and  now  it  is  discovered  that  it  was 
begotten  by  hallucinations  and  sustained  by  a  "  world-histori- 
cal humbug."  Not  only  has  there  been  no  progress,  there  has 
been  retrogression.  The  end  returns  to  the  unshaped  begin- 
ning; the  last  word  left  us  is  the  pantheism  and  nihilism  of 
the  Buddhist  creed.  What  hope  for  a  race,  all  whose  highest 
aspirations  and  deepest  experiences  are  delusions  of  the 
imagination  ?  What  j^ossible  progress  in  the  futui-e  to  those 
whose  whole  past  has  been  an  insane  folly  ?  Can  a  mad-house 
cure  itself?  Such  a  history  violates  every  law  of  progress  and 
even  the  theory  of  evolution  itself — so  far  as  it  seeks  for  reason 
in  the  facts,  so  far  as  it  would  fain  construct  a  philosophy  of 
history.  Strauss  contrasts  what,  by  a  vicious  use  of  the  word, 
he  calls  "  the  dualism  "  of  Christianity  with  the  monism — the 
one  essence — of  Buddhism,  to  the  discredit  of  the  former. 
By  this  "  dualism  "  he  only  means  that  in  the  Christian  view 
man  has  both  body  and  soul,  that  his  existence  is  in  both  this 
world  and  a  hereafter,  and  that  the  universe  embraces  both  a 


HAVE    WE   STILL   ANT    KELIGION  ?  469 

Creator  and  the  creature.  This  point  comes  out  more  fully 
further  on  ;  and  we  need  here  only  say,  that  without  some 
such  dualism  there  can  be  no  movement  of  being,  no  possible 
separation  between  the  Infinite  All  and  its  finite  manifesta- 
tions, no  history  whatever, 

Strauss's  answer,  then,  to  the  first  question :  "  Are  we  still 
Christians  ? "  can  be  only  this  (i.  107) :  "If  we  would  liave  our 
yea  yea,  and  our  nay  nay,  in  short,  if  we  would  speak  as 
honest,  upright  men,  we  must  acknowledge  that  we  are  no 
longer  Christians,"  This  is,  of  course,  the  answer  that 
must  be  given  by  an  honest  and  consistent  jjantheist  or 
materialist.  And  it  leads  him  on  to  his  second  question, 
underlying  this  first : 

II.  Have  we  Still  any  Religion? 

Logically,  this  question  precedes  the  first  one.  For  if  a 
man  has  not  any  religion  (as  this  is  usually  understood),  he  of 
course  cannot  "  still  be  a  Christian."  If  Strauss  had  only  put 
his  answer  to  the  second  query  as  a  caption  to  the  first,  the 
irrelevancy  of  the  previous  discussion  would  be  too  apparent. 
Logically,  too,  his  third  question  comes  before  both  the  second 
and  first,  viz.,  "  What  is  our  idea  of  the  Universe  ? "  for  he 
says,  that  it  is  pantheistico-materiaiistic.  And  any  one  hold- 
ing this  theory  cannot  of  course  have  any  definite  religious 
belief,  and  still  less  can  he  be  a  Christian.  So  that,  as  a 
scientific  structure,  the  whole  book  is  disarranged.  The  plan 
is  subjective,  rhetorical,  and  for  popular  effect.  If  "  we  "  do 
not  believe  in  a  personal  God  and  immortality,  if  ''we"  are 
pantheists  and  materialists  from  conviction,  we  cannot  say 
that  we  have  any  real  religion,  nor  lisp  the  simplest  lessons 
of  the  Christian  faith.  But  his  object  is  to  lead  the  reader 
on  by  degrees  from  the  more  common  forms  of  unbelief  down 
to  its  most  daring  extremes.  And  especially  is  it  designed  to 
show — first,  that  some  of  the  grounds  on  which  Christianity 
is  rejected  (especially  its  supernatui-al  elements)  lead  right  on 
to  a  denial  of  God  and  eternal  life;  and  secondly,  that  a 


470  THE   NEW   FAITH   OF    STRAUSS. 

denial  of  the  latter  lands  us  inevitably  in  pantheism  or  mate- 
rialism, or  both  in  one.  The  sense  of  his  argument  is — if 
Christianity  be  denied,  so  must  it  be  with  a  personal  God ; 
and  if  God  be  denied,  we  must  be  godless  evolutionists.  Or, 
in  other  words,  he  says,  give  up  miracles  and  there  need  be 
no  creator,  for  creation  is  the  greatest  of  miracles  ;  give  up 
a  creator,  and  all  we  have  left  is  a  develo23ment  without  be- 
ginning or  end. 

Ilis  question  now  is :  Have  we  still  any  Keligion?  His 
answer,  reduced  to  its  lowest  terms,  is :  AVe  pantheists  and 
materialists  can  have  no  religion,  excepting  a  feeling  of  de- 
j)endence  on  the  universe. 

His  discussion  of  the  origin,  nature,  and  reality  of  religion 
must  be  confessed  to  be  somewhat  immethodical  and  miscel- 
laneous. He  knows  that  Hume  was  "  undoubtedly  correct" 
in  ascribing  its  origin  not  to  a  "  desire  for  truth  "  and  knowl- 
edge, but  to  a  "  selfish  craving  for  material  welfare  ; "  while 
he  tells  us  on  the  same  page  (i.  109)  that  brutes  do  not  have 
it,  any  more  than  they  have  "  what  we  term  reason ;  "  yet 
brutes  undeniably  have  a  craving  for  material  welfare.  He 
adds  that  the  "Epicurean  derivation  of  piety  from  fear  has 
incontestably  a  great  deal  of  truth  in  it."  Man,  too,  first  per- 
sonifies the  forces  of  nature.  As  he  advances  in  culture,  his 
"  moral  constitution  also  comes  into  play  "  (where  does  it  come 
from  ?),  and  so  he  "  tries  to  protect  himself  "  "  not  only  against 
others,  but  against  his  own  sensuality  and  weakness  as  well, 
by  placing  in  reserve  behind  the  dictates  of  his  conscience  a 
commanding  God"  (p.  114).  Thus  reason  and  conscience  are 
plausibly  slipped  in  as  factors ;  but  how  about  the  logic  of 
it  ?  Polytheism,  he  assumes,  is  the  primitive  form  of  religion. 
Among  the  Greeks  it  "  developed  a  richer  life  "  than  mono- 
theism could  have  done.  Monotheism  came  in  first  among 
"  a  wandering  clan,"  the  Jews ;  the  idea  of  one  God  gave  it 
concentration  and  force  (pp.  117,  118).  The  "modern  idea 
of  God  has  two  aspects,  the  Absolute,  and  the  Personal ;  " 
"  the  former  came  to  us  from  the  Greeks,  the  latter  from  the 
Jews ;  "  and  yet  he  concedes  on  the  same  page  (121)  that  "  the 


RELIGION   AOCOEDING   TO    STKAUSS.  471 

Jew  conceived  of  Jehovah  as  absohite,  so  far  as  he  had  the 
capacity  !  "  Christianity  "  intensified  the  personal  element ;  " 
the  more  tender  the  relation  comes  to  be,  the  more  personal 
is  it — "for  a  tender  relation  can  only  snbsist  toward  a  person, 
at  the  least  a  fictitious  one "  (p.  122).  But  philosophy, 
notably  the  Copernican  astronomy,  has  "  dissolved  "  this  fig- 
ment of  personality,  since  it  leaves  no  place  in  the  universe 
for  the  throne  of  God,  the  retinue  of  angels  and  the  heaven 
of  the  blessed  (pp.  123-4).  The  same  philosophy  has  also 
shown  that  it  is  absurd  to  pray  to  any  sn^^erior  being.  Kant 
proved  that  2)i"ayer  can  only  have  a  subjective  effect ;  and 
Strauss  says  (p.  12S),  it  is  only  "  playing  a  game  with  one's 
self."  Some  of  the  proofs  of  the  being  of  God  are  next 
slightly  traversed — the  argument  for  design  being  postponed 
to  the  next  main  question;  the  conceptions  of  God  in  the  re- 
cent German  speculations  are  noticed:  then  follows  a  dis- 
course on  immortality,  which  of  course  is  denied,  the  argu- 
ment being  concluded  with  the  assertion  of  Tertullian,  quoted 
and  misapplied  :  ''•Xothing  is  incorporeal  but  nothing."  (In 
the  translation,  incoiyoreal  is  given  as  "  innnaterial.'')  Strauss 
then  comes  back  to  the  question  about  the  nature  of  religion 
— assenting  to  Feuerbach's  position  that  it  is  engendered  by 
our  "  wishes  "  (if  we  did  not  wish  for  something  we  could  not 
be  pious),  modified  by  Schleiermachers  definition  of  it  as  "  a 
feeling  of  absolute  dependence ;"  and  concluding  that  reli- 
gion so  far  from  being  a  high  "  prerogative,"  is  but  a  weak- 
ness "  of  man's  childhood  " — displaced  by  the  growth  of 
knowledge,  "  as  the  domain  of  the  lied  Indians  of  North 
America,  which,  however  much  we  ma}^  deplore  it,  is  year 
after  year  reduced  into  constantly  narrowing  limits  by  their 
white  neighbors"  (p.  161).  Yet  religion  is  not  wholly  ex- 
tinct— the  feeling  of  absolute  dependence  on  "  the  all,"  ''  the 
universe,"  abides;  but  it  is  a  religion  which '"  will  hardly 
produce  a  form  of  worship  or  even  festivals ''  (p.  165).  With 
an  unavailing  protest  against  Schopenhauer's  inference — that 
if  this  be  all — a  mere  blind  submission  to  an  unconscious  and 
unpitying  Power,  this  universe  "is  worse  than  no  universe 


472  THE   NEW   FAITH   OF    STRAUSS. 

at  all " — be  concludes,  in  substance,  tliat  all  tbat  science  leaves 
of  religion  is  submission  to  necessity. 

Tbree  points  claim  at  least  a  passino-  notice — all  that  our 
limits  allow:  1.  The  Origin  of  Religion;  2.  Its  Proofs;  3. 
Its  Nature  and  Destiny. 

1.  The  Origin  of  Religion.  To  ascribe  tlie  origin  of  so 
universal  and  powerful  a  sentiment,  to  fear,  with  tiie  Epicu- 
reans, to  a  sellisb  craving,  with  Hume,  to  tlie  personification 
of  natural  objects,  as  in  ancient  mythology,  or  to  unfulfilled 
"wishes  " — is,  in  the  first  place,  unhistorical,  for  in  all  extant 
beliefs  there  are  found  other  and  higher  ideas  than  can  be 
derived  from  these  trivial  and  accidental  elements;  in  the 
second  place,  it  is  unphilosophical,  for  it  gives  no  adequate 
account  of  the  undeniable  influence  of  reason  and  conscience, 
which,  as  essential  elements  of  human  nature,  must  at  least 
have  co-worked  in  producing  the  highest  forms  of  human  life 
and  experience ;  and,  in  the  third  place,  it  is  logically  falla- 
cious, because  in  order  that  fear  and  desire  may  lead  to  re- 
ligion, it  is  necessary  to  presuppose  in  human  nature  some 
longing  for,  or  anticipation  of,  a  higher  than  a  mundane  end 
or  object,  at  least  latent  in  the  outward  world.  Brutes  have 
fears  and  desires,  but  no  religion. 

Professor  Ulrici,  in  his  acute  reply  to  Strauss,*  says :  "  Not 
fear,  but  the  cpiestion  about  the  causes  of  phenomena,  of  good 
and  evil  events,  this  spontaneous  question,  springing  out  of 
man's  own  nature,  and  forced  upon  him  by  natural  events  and 
the  natural  conditions  of  his  life,  and  which  first  makes  and  pro- 
claims man  to  be  man — this  is  also  at  the  same  time  the  direct 
source  of  religion."  "  Tlie  rational  law  of  causality,  the  idea 
of  cause,  the  consciousness  of  a  dependent  and  conditioned 
existence,  involve  and  demand,  not  only  the  conception,  but 
the  acceptance,  of  a  last  and  highest  cause,  which  is  not  itself 
the  product  of  any  other  cause.  The  very  conception  of  con- 
ditioned existence  is  possible  only  when  we  distinguish  it 
from  its  conditions  ;  and   tliat  ivhich  conditions,  in  and  of 

*  Philosophische  Zeitschrift,  as  cited  above,  pp.  290  and  following. 


STEAUSS    ON   THE    PEOOFS    OF   EELIGION.  473 

itself,  purely  as  such,  is  necessarily  unconditioned."  "  Chil- 
dren still  personify  lifeless  objects,  not  from  fear,  for  they 
personify  those  which  are  grateful  as  well  as  those  whicli 
kindle  aversion  : — but  because  they  consider  all  objects  that 
act  upon  them  as  living,  ensouled,  active  agents,  since  they 
know  no  other  causes  than  those  springing  from  will  and 
wish." 

The  origin  of  such  a  vast  historic  power  as  religion  can  never 
more  be  deduced  from  the  inferior  tendencies  of  human 
nature^" ust  because  man  has  higher  tendencies.  It  is  like 
asci'ibing  the  origin  of  the  state  to  fear  and  force,  without 
taking  into  account  the  inherent  need  of  social  organization 
and  moral  order.  If  man  in  distinction  from  the  brutes  (as 
Strauss  coiicedes)  has  reason  and  conscience — these  must,  at 
least,  be  factors  in  the  fornmtion  of  religious  belief,  not  come 
after  it,  but  enter  into  it.  Reason  instinctively  searches  out 
the  ground,  origin  and  connections  of  phenomena :  conscience 
testifies  to  moral  law  and  a  moral  government.  In  sinful 
beings,  both  reason  and  conscience  awaken  a  sense  of  gnilt, 
and  of  the  need  of  expiation  ;  so  that  in  all  historical  religions 
we  find  sacrifices  as  well  as  worship.  In  these  and  kindred 
elements  are  to  be  sought  the  origin  of  religion  in  human 
nature ;  these  alone  explain  the  actual  religious  history  of 
the  race.  And  there  still  remains  the  question  of  a  primeval 
revelation. 

2.  The  Proofs  of  Religion.  These,  so  far  as  Strauss  con- 
siders them,  comprise  chiefly  a  criticism  of  the  arguments 
for  the  Being  of  God,  and  for  the  Immortality  of  the  Soul. 
The  evidence  derived  from  man's  nature,  from  the  inherent 
bent  of  the  soul,  and  from  the  history  of  belief,  are  silently 
passed  by.  The  usual  proofs  of  the  divine  existence  he  calls 
"  old-fashioned  scientific  artillery." 

The  first  one  he  takes  up  is  the  so-called  "  cosmological 
argument,"  resting  on  the  rational  idea  "  that  everything  must 
have  a  sufficient  cause."  Nothing  that  we  perceive  is  self- 
existent  ;  each  owes  its  origin  to  something  else — and  so  on 
until  we  reach  and  rest  in  the  idea  of  One  Being,  uncondi- 


474  THE   NEW    FAITH    OF    STEAUSS. 

tioned,  uncaused,  necessary  in  contrast  with  all  that  is  con- 
tingent— the  First  Cause.  To  this  Strauss  replies,  that  it  does 
not  give  us  a  "  personal  "  God,  and  that  it  does  not  give  us  a 
cause  of  the  world  outside  of  the  world.  ''  If  everything  in 
the  world  has  its  ground  in  another,  and  so  on,  ad  infinitum^ 
we  do  not  arrive  at  the  conception  of  a  cause,  of  which  the 
world  is  an  effect,  but  of  a  substance,  the  accidents  of  which 
are  individual  existences.  We  do  not  attain  to  God,  but  to  a 
universe  resting  upon  itself,  ever  the  same  in  the  eternal 
changes  of  the  phenomenal  world  "  (i.  134). 

We  leave  for  the  moment  what  is  said  of  the  divine  person- 
ality to  track  the  other  point  raised.  That  form  of  the  cosmo- 
logical  argument  here  presented  concludes  from  changing  phe- 
nomena to  an  immutable  cause.  It  is  based  on  the  category 
of  cause  and  effect,  and  not  on  that  of  substance  and  accidents  ; 
but  Strauss,  by  a  logical  subterfuge,  substitutes  the  latter  for 
the  former.  When  we  ask  for  the  cause  of  plienomena,  it  is 
no  answer  to  say  that  the  phenomena  are  accidents,  aud  that 
the  substance  of  these  accidents  is  all  the  cause  they  have. 
The  substance  of  a  man  is  quite  a  different  thing  from  the 
cause  of  a  man's  acts.  We  ask  for  a  cause  only  when  there 
is  a  change  in  time,  an  event.  Still  further,  the  inference  of 
an  eternal  substance  is  at  least  as  illogical  as  that  of  a  First 
Cause — if  the  latter  conclusion  cannot  be  drawn,  neither  can 
the  former.  Still  less  can  it  be  inferred  that  this  substance 
reposes  on  itself  and  abides  unchangeable,  for  if  phenomena 
are  the  accidents  of  this  substance,  then  the  substance  is 
changed  in  the  accidents,  for  the  accidents  are  its  own.  The 
fact  is,  that,  in  the  cosmological  alignment,  the  two  categories 
of  cause  and  effect,  and  of  ground  and  manifestation,  are  often 
confounded ;  and  they  ought  to  be  kept  asunder,  since  they 
are  essentially  unlike.  The  argument  itself  is  strictly  only  an 
analysis  of  the  idea  of  being  into  necessary  and  contingent, 
aud  of  the  idea  of  cause  into  absolute  and  relative.  But 
Strauss'  conclusion  virtually  denies  that  the  idea  of  cause  can 
be  at  all  applied  to  the  infinite  and  absolute  Being,  and  this 
is  both  unproved  and  unreasonable. 


STKAUSS    ON    THE    THEISTIC    AKGUMENT,  475 

Ulrici  (p.  293)  forcibly  remarks  that  "  Strauss  coiifonnds  the 
notion  of  causality  with  causality  as  a  law  of  thought.  The 
notion  of  causality  may  be  transferred  into  that  of  substance, 
at  least  witli  the  help  of  some  plausible  windings  and  perver- 
sions. But  this  is  absolutely  impossible  with  causality  as  a 
law  of  thought.  This  law  comjjels  us,  whenever  there  is  an 
event,  a  change,  to  assume  that  there  is  also  a  cause  different 
from  the  effect,  even  in  these  cases  where  we  cannot  know 
the  cause.  The  cause  must  be  different  from  the  effect, 
otherwise  we  should  not  have  two  things,  cause  and  effect, 
but  only  one — there  would  be  no  cause.  In  virtue  of  this 
law  of  thought  Ave  are  not  able  to  conceive  an  infinite  series 
of  causes  and  effects,  but  we  mu^ft  presuppose  a  cause  ■which 
is  not  a  mere  effect  of  something  else,  but  a  pure,  last  and 
hence  unconditional  cause,  else  we  should  have  only  effects 
but  no  cause;  but  an  effect  without  a  cause  is  inconceiva- 
ble. ...  A  universe  which  remains  the  same  in  the 
eternal  change  of  phenomena  is  a  contradictio  in  adjeoto^  for 
that  which  changes  does  not  remain  the  same,  and  a  chang- 
ing manifestation,  without  an  essence  manifested  in  it,  and 
changing  with  it,  is  no  manifestation,  but  an  illusion." 

Of  the  other  arguments  for  the  being  of  God,  Strauss  here 
alludes  in  passing  to  that  from  design,  referring  all  instances 
of  design  to  an  unconscious  instinct  (as  if  that  very  instinct 
were  not  a  part  of  the  problem) ;  deferring,  however,  the 
further  discussion  of  it  to  that  part  of  his  treatise  in  which 
he  exhibits  the  bearing  upon  it  of  Darwin's  theory  of  evolu- 
tion. The  moral  argument  is  dismissed  in  a  summary  wa}". 
He  holds  to  no  absolute  morality — it  is  made  by  man.  Kant's 
elaborate  proof  is  refuted  with  a  sneer.  Singularly  eiiough, 
no  notice  at  all  is  taken  of  the  ontological  argument — the 
profoundest  of  all,  and  needed  to  supplement  and  complete 
the  others.  Only  by  the  union  of  the  ontological  argument 
with  that  from  design,  etc.,  can  we  arrive  at  all  the  elements 
which  enter  into  the  idea  of  God — especially  the  two  factors 
of  absoluteness  and  personality.  The  ontological  argument 
establishes  the  necessary  existence  of  an  absolute  and  infinite 


476  THE   NEW    FAITH    OF    STEAUSS. 

being,  who  is  also  cause :  the  various  forms  of  the  a  jpostc- 
riori  argument  prove  that  that  cause  must  be  a  conscious, 
rational  and  moral  intelligence — in  short,  personal. 

But  Strauss,  while  acknowledging  that  the  common  "  c(jn- 
ception  of  God  has  two  sides,  that  of  the  absolute,  and  that 
of  the  personal"  (i.  121),  also  advances  the  hackneyed  pan- 
theistic objection,  that  "  personality  is  a  limit "  (p,  123), 
while  God  of  course  is  illimitable.  AVhen  we  endeavor  to 
conceive  of  "  an  absolute  personality,  we  are  merely  dealing 
with  an  idle  phantasy  "  (p.  140).  But  wherein  lies  the  con- 
tradiction, or  even  the  inconsistency,  of  applying  the  two 
ideas  to  the  same  Being?  Surely  they  are  not  logical  con- 
tradictories; are  they  contradictory  in  fact  ?  This  can  only 
be  shown  by  defining  them  with  care.  The  absolute  is  an 
adjective  and  not  a  substantive:  it  is  a  predicate  of  pure 
Being — and  means  that  pure  Being  is  complete  in  and  of 
itself,  and  absolved  from  all  limitations,  and  from  all  condi- 
tions not  contained  in  itself.  Personality  is  ascribed  to  pure 
Being  considered  as  spiritual  being;  and  means  that  such  an 
absolute  Being  is  and  must  be  self-conscious,  rational  and 
ethical,  for  that  is  the  only  idea  of  spirit  that  we  can  possibly 
frame.  What  contradiction,  now,  is  there  in  asserting  that 
such  a  spiritual  Being  may  also  be  absolute,  or  complete  and 
unconditioned  ?     None  whatever. 

The  contradiction  seems  to  emerge  only  when  we  substi- 
tute some  other  idea  for  that  of  absoluteness — and  especially 
when  M^e  attempt  to  conceive  of  absolute  spirit  by  a  notion  or 
image  really  derived  from  space  considered  as  illimitable. 
An  ingenious  German  once  wrote  a  pamphlet  to  prove  that 
space  is  God.  The  All,  or  the  Infinite,  put  into  the  forms 
of  space,  may  be  imaged  ft)rth  as  inconsistent  with  the 
Personality :  but  the  Infinite  viewed  as  spiritual  is  entirely 
different.  Spirit  cannot  be  defined  by  space- — excepting 
negatively.  God  is  not  space-filling  in  the  way  of  extension. 
God,  say  the  old  divines,  is  not  extensive^  but  intensive — just 
because  he  is  pure  spirit. 

The  same  confusion  of  space  with  spirit  also  appears  in  the 


STEAUSS    DENIES    IMMORTALITY.  4(  i 

kindred  popular  pantheistic  hypothesis,  that  tlie  Infinite  or 
Absolute  must  embrace  all  that  is — even  the  finite  and  rela- 
tive. It  is  true  that  illimitable  space  includes  all  finite  exten- 
sions. But  this  is  not  true  of  any  predicate  of  Spiritual 
Being.  Omnipotence  is  not  limited  by  excluding  weakness  ; 
nor  can  Omniscience  be  enlarged  by  including  ignorance  ; 
nor  is  holiness  marred  by  repelling  sin  instead  of  embracing 
it :  nor  is  God  limited  in  his  being;  because  Satan  is  not 
identified  with  his  very  essence.  To  confound  spirit  with 
space,  to  define  the  absolute  by  spatial  forms  alone,  is  to 
annul   rational    distinctions.      It   is    a   fieru^acn<;    et?    ciWo 

761/09. 

Strauss  also  denies  immortality  as  well  as  a  personal  God  ; 
and  in  this  is  consistent.  lie  long  ago  declared  that  a  belief 
in  immortality  was  "  the  last  enemy  "  which  speculative  phi- 
losophy had  to  overcome.  In  his  last  work  he  adduces  only 
the  most  common  objections;  dismissing  the  subject  (ii.  214) 
with  the  remark,  that  "  he  who  cannot  help  himself  in  this  mat- 
ter is  beyond  help,  is  not  ripe  for  our  standpoint."  We  need 
not,  and  cannot  now,  follow  him  in  the  reflections  that  conduct 
him  to  his  desolate  conclusion.  Only,  we  may  perhaps  ask, 
how,  as  a  consistent  evolutionist,  he  can  so  confidently  deny 
immortality  ?  Who  knows  all  that  may  be  latent  in  this  illim- 
itable process,  which  has  neither  beginning  nor  end,  whose 
purposes  are  all  blind,  whose  aims  are  unfathomable,  whose 
possibilities  are  exhaustless  ?  Why  may  not  the  race  be  fur- 
ther developed?  Wliy  must  "  the  diapason  close  full"  in 
man  upon  this  earth  ?  Why  may  there  not  be  a  disenthralled 
and  spiritualized  humanity?  With  the  evolutionist's  formula 
of — "  the  slightest  changes  and  the  longest  periods  " — very 
much  may  be  imagined.  If  man  can  be  produced  from  an 
ape,  and  an  ape  from  a  clam  (ascidian),  and  a  clam  from  a 
nondescript,  low-lived  Bathybius, — a  soul  from  the  soulless, 
and  life  from  the  lifeless, — why  may  not  man  himself  be 
further  developed  into  a  higher  form  of  spiritual  life  ?  Be- 
cause, says  Strauss,  "Nothing  is  incorporeal  but  nothing." 


478  THE   NEW    FAITH    OF    STRAUSS. 

But  Pan!  replies,  "  There  is  a  natural  body,  and  there  is  a 
spiritual  body." 

"  What  if  earth  be  like  to  heaven, 
And  things  therein  be  each  to  other  like 
More  than  on  earth  is  thought !  " 

3.  The  Nature  or  Essence  of  Religion.  Religion  always 
and  everywhere  denotes  some  relation^  real  or  supposed,  be- 
tween the  world  and  what  is  thought  to  be  above  the  world ; 
between  mankind  and  some  superior  being  or  beings ;  in  the 
most  general  terms,  between  man  and  the  world  as  relative 
and  finite,  and  the  ground  or  cause  of  the  world  as  absolute 
and  infinite.  The  universe  of  being  is  necessarily  conceived, 
in  the  last  analysis,  as  embracing  both  the  infinite  and  the 
finite,  the  absolute  and  the  relative;  and  all  religion  is,  and 
must  be,  found  in  a  conscious  relation,  on  man's  part,  between 
these  two  poles  of  being.  No  analysis  can  get  beyond  these 
factors;  a  final  analysis  must  comprise  these  factors.  And 
this  analysis  rests  upon  and  reveals  a  difference,  a  contrast, 
between  the  Infinite  and  the  finite,  between  God  and  man 
What  is  common  to  them  is  the  pure  idea  of  being — both  to- 
gether make  up  the  universe  of  being;  but,  as  compared  with 
each  other,  the  Infinite  and  finite,  God  and  the  creature,  must 
be  conceived  of  and  defined  by  totally  different  predicates — 
e.  g.,  the  absolute  and  relative,  the  illimitable  and  the  limited, 
the  conditioned  and  the  unconditioned,  etc.  Though  differ- 
ent, they  are  yet  related  to  each  other,  and  necessarily  so. 
Man's  consciousness  or  knowledge  of  this  relation  is  expressed 
in  religious  reverence,  love  and  worship — herein  is  his  re- 
ligion. And  thus  religion  always  implies  an  essential  differ- 
ence between  its  object  and  its  subject — between  God  and 
the  creature.  As  soon  as  the  two  are  identified,  are  viewed 
as  only  one  in  substance  or  essence,  all  real  difference  vanishes 
and  religion  becomes  impossible. 

Strauss'  conception,  now,  of  the  nature  of  religion,  is  based 
on  the  monistic  or  pantheistic  assumption  about  the  universe 
— that  the  Infinite  and  finite  are  but  one  in  essence — that 


"  OUK   RELIGION  "    ACCORDING    TO    STR ArSS.  479 

tlieir  essential  difference  is  an  illusion,  lie  cursorily  reviews 
the  opinions  of  recent  German  pliilosopliers  (pp.  135-147), 
disparaging  Kant's  rigid  monotheism,  calling  Fichte  and 
Schelling  '"  mystics  "  and  unscientific,  because  both  of  them  in 
their  latest  works  disavowed  some  of  the  pantheistic  tendencies 
of  their  youthful  speculations,  and  iiuding  that  even  Hegel 
"  bequeathed  a  riddle  to  his  expounders  and  a  subterfuge  to 
his  adherents"  (p.  137),  because  he  defined  the  aboriginal 
substance  as  "  subject  or  spirit" — thus  leaving  room  for  "the 
idea  of  personality."  I^one  of  these,  he  thinks,  attained  to 
the  true  conception.  In  Schleiermacher's  reduction  of  religion 
to  a  "  feeling  of  absolute  dependence,"  coupled  with  Feuer- 
bach's  derivation  of  it  from  man's  "  wishes  "  (p.  155),  he  finds 
the  needful  factors:  "  what  man  would  be  but  is  not,  wdiat  he 
would  have  but  knows  not  how  to  get — this  creates  for  him 
his  God."  Not  in  "  dependence  "  alone,  but  also  in  "  the  need 
of  acting  against  it  and  vindicating  his  own  freedom  "  do  we 
detect  the  true  nature  of  religion.  That  is,  says  Ulrici,  he 
derives  it  "  from  two  diametrically  opposite  sources." 

"  Our  religion,"  adds  Strauss,  "  is  no  longer  that  of  our 
fathers" — a  belief  in  the  existence  of  God  and  the  immor- 
tality of  the  soul.  It  is  "  a  knowledge  of  the  world  "—of  the 
All,  the  Universe."  In  this  world  we  find  a  constant  pro- 
ceeding of  "  the  higher  from  the  lower,  of  the  refined  from 
the  rude."  "  We  regard  the  universe  as  the  source  of  all 
that  is  rational  and  good."  And  yet  wath  a  difference ! 
"  We  can  no  longer  view  the  world  as  the  work  of  an  abso- 
lutely rational  and  good  personality,  but  as  the  laboratory  of 
the  rational  and  good.  It  is  not  j)lanned  by  the  highest 
reason,  but  unto  the  highest  reason.  And  we  '  must '  con- 
cede, too,  that  what  is  in  the  effect  is  also  in  the  cause — wliat 
comes  out  must  have  been  in.  But  it  is  only  owing  to  the 
limitation  of  our  human  conceptions  that  we  make  such  dis- 
tinctions, for  the  universe  is  both  cause  and  effect,  both 
external  and  internal,  at  once  and  together  "  (p.  163). 

This  last  statement  touches  the  vital  point  and  tests  the 
whole  matter ;  for  if  we  know  that  the  universe  is  at  once 


480  THE    NEW    FAITH    OF    STRAUSS. 

both  canse  and  effect,  both  internal  and  external,  or,  in  other 
words,  both  infinite  and  finite,  so  tliat  there  is  no  real  differ- 
ence between  them,  why  is  it  that  we  "must"  distinguish 
between  cause  and  effect  as  really  different  ?  Our  knowledge 
of  the  identity  would  be  the  dominant  idea  and  forbid  such  a 
conclusion.  On  the  other  hand,  if  we  "  must  "  distinguish 
between  cause  and  effect,  how  can  we  ever  come  to  know 
that  this  is  due  to  "  limitation  of  our  faculties,"  and  that  "  in 
the  universe  "  they  are  identified  and  confounded  ?  If  this 
argument  does  not  establish  the  identity  of  being,  it  does 
illustrate  the  identification  of  contradictions — well-nigh  of 
logical  contradictories.  If  the  assumption  of  the  identity  of 
cause  and  effect  be  valid,  then  we  cannot  really  in  thought 
distinguish  them  ;  if  we  cannot  really  distinguish  between 
cause  and  effect,  we  can  never  more  prove  that  there  is  abso- 
lute being  as  well  as  phenomena  ;  while,  if  we  "  jnust  "  dis- 
tinguish between  them,  it  follows  that,  if  this  would  "  be  the 
laboratory  of  what  is  rational  and  good,"  it  must  have  been 
"  the  work  of  a  wise  and  good  cause ;  "  that  if  it  be  "  planned 
unto  the  highest  reason,"  it  must  have  been  planned  hy  the 
highest  reason. 

Strauss,  in  the  later  editions  of  his  work,  thus  goes  on  : 
"  We  stand  here  at  the  limits  of  our  knowledge ;  we  gaze 
into  an  abyss  we  can  no  farther  fathom.  But  this  much  at 
least  is  certain — that  the  personal  image  which  there  meets 
our  gaze  is  but  a  reflection  of  the  wondering  spectator  him- 
self." "  Even  the  conception  of  the  Absolute  to  which  our 
modern  philosophy  is  so  partial,  easily  tends  again  to  assume 
some  kind  of  personality.  We,  in  consequence,  prefer  the 
designation  of  the  All  or  the  Universe  :  not  overlooking, 
however,  that  this  again  runs  the  danger  of  leading  us  to 
think  of  the  sum-total  of  phenomena,  instead  of  the  one 
essence  of  forces  and  laws  which  manifest  and  fulfil  them- 
selves.    But  we  would  rather  say  too  little  than  too  much." 

Beyond  "  the  lowest  dejDths  "  which  German  speculation 
has  hitherto  reached  there  is,  it  seems,  a  lower  deep — and  in 
that  abyss  a  deeper  contradiction.     "  The  personal  image 


STKAiJSs'  "the  all."  481 

which  there  meets  onr  gaze  is  but  a  reflection  of  ourselves." 
But  is  it  an  "  image  "  that  the  believer  gazes  on  ?  Is  it  not 
rather  an  Infinite  and  Perfect  Being — the  Absolute  Spirit? 
"We  are  the  "image  "  and  there  is  the  reality  ;  the  two  are 
as  different  as  the  Infinite  and  finite — and  we  hnoio  that  they 
are  so.  But  this  abyss  of  being,  adds  Strauss,  is  not  fitly 
called  "  the  Absolute  " — for  to  that  term  an  association  of 
"  personality  "  still  clings  ;  it  is  better  to  call  it  "  the  All  or 
tlie  Universe."  Schelling,  in  his  earlier  pantheistic  stage, 
defined  it  as  the  "  identity  "  of  being  ;  Fichte  as  "  the  moral 
order ;  "  Hegel  as  "  spirit,"  not  substance,  and  "  spirit  as 
subject."  Bnt  all  these  designations  are  inadequate  to  the 
needs  of  the  new  faith  ;  it  goes  deeper  still,  and  "  the  Uni- 
verse "  is  the  last  abyss.  Keligion  in  the  last  analysis  is  only 
a  feeling  of  dependence  on  the  Universe.  Even  here,  how- 
ever, there  is  "a  danger" — for  we  must  "not  think  of  the 
sum-total  of  phenomena,"  but  "  of  the  one  essence  of  forces 
and  laws  which  manifest  and  fulfil  themselves."  This  one 
essence  is  the  Universe. 

We  have  not  the  German  original  of  this  passage,  which  is 
not  in  the  fourth  edition  ;  and  the  English  translation  in 
which  it  appears  is  from  the  sixth.  But  presuming  it  to  be 
correct  we  have  here  a  wonderful  phase  of  this  dizzy  specula 
tion.  "  The  All  "  in  which  we  rest,  it  is  implied,  is  "  not 
the  sum-total  of  phenomena,"  but  "  the  one  essence  of  forces 
and  laws  manifested  "  in  these  phenomena.  That  is,  in  fine, 
by  Strauss'  own  concession,  "  the  All  "  to  which  he  comes  is 
not  the  All  of  being.  The  Universe  to  whicii  we  bow  does 
not  include  the  universality  of  beings ;  the  "  sum-total  of 
phenomena  "  is  "  not  to  be  thought  of,"  but  oidy  the  "  one 
essence  of  laws  and  forces."  That  is,  in  the  ultimate  "  Uni- 
verse "  on  which  we  depend,  the  essence  is  to  be  distinguished 
from  the  "  sum-total  of  the  phenomena ;  "  and  only  in  this 
essence  can  we  find  the  supreme  reality. 

Strauss  here   seems  to  come  into   contradiction    with   the 
whole  method  of  argument  he  has  been  employing  against 
the  theists ;  and  to  insist  upon  a  distinction  which  favors  the 
31 


48  2     .  THE    NEW    FAITH    OF    STRAUSS. 

theistic  rather  than  the  pantheistic  view,  \iz.,  tliat  the  ulti- 
mate essence  is  one  thing  and  the  phenomena  another,  and 
that  the  two  are  not  to  he  identified  or  confounded. 

For,  he  has  been  all  along  arguing  that  religion  is  a  sense 
of  dependence  on  the  All,  the  Universe.  This  All,  this 
Universe,  now,  what  is  it?  IIow  mucli  does  it  embrace? 
Only  three  answers  seem  possible  :  1.  The  Universe  is  "  the 
sum-total  of  all  phenomena  " — i.  e.,  it  is  all  finite  phenomena 
infinitely  extended,  without  beginning  or  end.  2.  The  Uni- 
verse is  one  essence  or  snl)stance,  including  both  the  Infinite 
and  finite,  the  absolute  and  relative,  the  illimitable  and  the 
limited,  the  eternal  and  the  temporal,  cause  and  eifect,  etc., 
all  in  one.  This  allows  a  phenomenal  difference,  while  it  as- 
serts an  ultimate  identity  of  these  opposites.  3.  It  may  also 
be  said,  that  though  the  Universe  comprises  both  the  Infinite 
and  finite,  the  absolute  and  relative,  yet  these  are  not  identi- 
cal ;  so  that  the  Infinite  is  the  ground,  source,  cause  of  the 
finite;  and  they  are  one, not  in  essence,  but  simply  as  parts 
of  the  universe.     This  is  the  theistic  view. 

The  first  of  these  views  is  the  materialistic;  it  denies  the 
reality  of  the  Infinite  ;  the  Infinite  is  simply  the  indefinite — 
it  is  made  up  by  the  aggregation  of  finites.  This  Scrauss  and 
all  pantheists  must  deny.  The  second  is  the  proper  pantheistic 
view — the  one  Strauss  has  been  advocating  all  along  against 
theism;  and,  according  to  it,  the  Infinite  and  finite,  essence 
and  phenomena,  cause  and  effect,  must  be  identified  in  ulti- 
mate Being ;  so  that  religion  can  only  be  a  sense  of  depend- 
ence on  the  Infinite  as  including  the  finite,  on  the  essence  as 
comprising  the  phenomena.  But  this  Strauss  seems  to  deny 
wlien  he  says,  that  we  must  not  think  of  the  "  sum-total  of 
phenomena,"  but  of  the  "  one  essence."  In  striving  to  avoid 
the  absurdity  of  putting  all  shifting  phenomena  into  the  abso- 
lute, and  thus  overwhelming  it  with  contradictions,  he  is 
compelled,  on  the  one  hand,  to  the  absurdity  of  implying  that 
the  Universe  does  not  necessarily  include  the  finite  as  well  as 
the  Infinite,  and  is  therefore  not  all-embracing  ;  and,  on  the 
other   hand,    to   a  conception  as    to  the  difference  between 


THE    SUM    OF    STRAUSS'    "CONFESSION."  483 

essence  and  phenomena,  which  gives  to  the  theist  one  of  his 
sharpest  weapons  against  the  pantheistic  theory  of  the  ulti- 
mate identity  of  all  being.  Thus  the  monotony  of  his  cheer- 
less abyss  is  disturbed  by  a  contradiction. 

And  in  this  abyss  is  the  very  substance  of  the  New  Faith 
— the  combined  creed  of  pantheists  and  materialists  as  to  the 
essence  of  Religion.  All  past  belief  is  a  dehision  ;  the  only 
abiding  religion  is  a  blind  submission  to  a  blind  Necessity — a 
feeling  of  absolute  dependence  on  an  unfathomable  abyss  of 
being,  into  which  no  ray  of  light  ever  penetrated.  Welcome, 
then,  the  Buddhist  Nirvana  or  the  materialistic  annihilation. 
Schopenhauer  would  seem  to  be  right :  the  universe  is  one 
grand  mistake,  better  had  it  never  existed  ;  pessimism  is  our 
last  refuge  ;  this  is  "  the  worst  conceivable  universe." 

But  Strauss  again  appears  inconsistent,  and  says  that  the 
pessimists  are  "  melancholy-mad,"  and  involved  in  "  glaring 
contradictions,"  and  he  tries  to  dislodge  them  by  applying  an 
old  sophism,  viz.,  "  If  the  world  is  something  which  had 
better  not  have  existed,  then  too  the  thought  of  a  philosopher, 
as  forming  part  of  this  Universe,  is  a  thought  which  had 
better  not  have  been  thought.  The  pessimist  philosopher 
fails  to  perceive  how  he,  al)ove  all,  thus  declares  that  liis  own 
thought,  viz.,  that  the  world  is  bad — must  be  a  bad  thought ; 
bat  if  the  thought  which  declares  the  world  to  be  bad  is  a  bad 
thought, then  it  follows  naturally  that  the  world  is  good"  (p. 
1(37).  Yes,  until  tlie  pessimist  with  his  relentless  logic  pursues 
him  still  further  b}'  saying — your  conclusion,  that  the  world 
is  good,  is  also  itself  a  part  of  the  same  bad  world  (which  is 
your  major  premise),  and  it  is  therefore  a  bad  conclusion. 
So  that,  after  all,  the  world  is  as  bad  as  it  can  be,  and  is  none 
the  better  for  your  short  logic. 

The  sum  of  Strauss'  "  Confession  "  thus  far  is  then  this  :  In 
his  criticism  and  argument  he  assumes  his  conclusion  from 
the  very  start,  viz.,  the  truth  of  the  pantheistico-materialistic 
theory  of  the  universe,  negatively  stated — that  there  is  no 
supernatural,  no  God  above  the  world,  no  immortality  beyond 


484     .  THE    NEW    FAITH    OF    STEAUSS. 

this  life.  This  assumption  pervades,  and,  of  course,  being 
unproved,  vitiates  the  whole  process.  With  this  determined 
2>re-conception  he  easily  shows  that  the  gospels  are  mythical, 
that  Christ  is  an  enthusiast  and  a  fanatic,  and  that  all  religions 
are  supierstitions  :  but  the  proof  is  formal  and  not  sul)stantial ; 
the  process  is  not  a  construction  but  a  destruction,  pulling 
down  the  structure  and  leaving  a  wreck  and  a  chaos.  The 
real  life  of  our  Lord  is  denied  in  the  assumption ;  and  all  the 
rest  is  like  the  dissection  of  the  dead,  which  may  be  scientific, 
but  leaves  only  disintegration  and  decay.  The  One  Perfect 
Man  is  robbed  even  of  his  human  excellency :  the  one  costly 
pearl  of  human  history  is  rudely  crushed,  and  its  dust 
mingled  with  the  nndistinguishable  clods  of  earth.  Of  the 
Person  of  Christ,  in  which  even  Hegel  found  the  centre  and 
turning-point  of  man's  whole  history,  there  remains  only  an 
unsubstantial  image,  his  visage  marred  more  than  any  man, 
and  his  form  more  than  the  sons  of  men.  And  all  religion, 
too,  by  the  same  destructive  process,  is  undermined  and  de- 
nied :  its  fanes  and  temples,  reared  in  grandeur  by  every 
race  and  every  generation,  are  depicted  as  the  products  of 
delusion,  the  strongholds  of  superstition,  the  citadels  of  the 
foes  of  civilization,  and  they  must  all  be  razed  to  the  ground. 
ISTot  even  a  vague  belief  in  a  benign  supernal  power,  not  even 
a  vestige  of  the  inspiring  hope  of  eternal  life,  can  be  absolved 
from  the  common  fate.  And  logicall}^,  too.  For  if  there  be 
no  supernatural,  then,  argues  our  unflinching  materialist, 
there  cannot  be  any  miracle  ;  if  no  miracle,  then  no  Christ ; 
if  no  Christ,  no  church.  And  not  this  alone  :  for  if  there  be 
no  miracle,  then  no  creation,  for  that  is  the  most  stupendous 
of  miracles :  if  no  creation,  no  personal  God  or  Creator,  and 
no  hereafter.  Outside  of  the  world,  above  the  world,  all  is 
naught.  And  in  the  world  necessity  an.d  chance,  under  the 
name  of  evolution,  rule  in  all  and  through  all,  and  leave  us 
infatuated  with  fate,  and  gazing  into  the  unfathomable  depths 
of  an  abyss.  And  this  is  the  np)shot  and  essence  of  the  new 
faith. 

lu  working  out  this  comfortino;  belief,  Strauss,  in  strivinff  to 


"WHAT    AND    WHITHER    THIS   NEW    BELIEF?  485 

combine  his  former  pantheism  and  his  new-fledged  materialism 
into  one  scheme  for  the  edification  of  posterity,  outbids  most 
other  pantheists  and  materialists  (as  becomes  a  progressive 
reformer) ;  for  he  out-Hegels  Hegel  and  out-Darwins  Darwin. 
Hegel  left  "spirit,"  and  "spirit  as  subject,"  as  the  essence  of 
the  Absolute  ;  Strauss  substitutes  "  the  xVll  or  the  Universe." 
Darwin  allowed  three  or  four  germs  and  a  creator  to  start  the 
series  of  evolution ;  Strauss  thinks  them  needless,  and  besides, 
he  says,  they  virtually  upset  the  theory ;  in  which  he  is  right. 
Dubois-Keymond  cannot  see  how  a  sensation  can  be  produced 
by  mechanical  laws ;  but  Strauss  says  it  must  be ;  and  though 
we  have  not  yet  seen  it  done,  somebody  will  see  it,  or  do  it,  by 
and  by.  It  may  be  doubted  whether  many  scientific  men  will 
be  willing  in  such  a  bold  way  to  supplement  their  physics  by 
tliese  pantheistic  metaphysics.  They  are  usually  hard-headed 
and  sharp-eyed  men,  who  see  what  they  do  see  and  know  it, 
and  know  very  little  of  such  a  Universe  as  that  of  Strauss, 
which  abides  unchanged  though  it  is  ever  changing,  which 
ever  rests  and  never  remains  at  rest,  and  which  is  in  itself  both 
cause  and  effect,  and  substance  and  accidents,  in  one,  and  at  the 
same  time.  When  it  comes  to  making  transitions  and  filling 
up  gaps,  most  scientific  men  hesitate  where  they  have  no  facts 
to  go  on  ;  but  not  so  a  genuine  a  jpriori  pantheistic  German 
reconstructionist ;  he  is  most  bold  where  they  are  most 
modest ;  the  fewer  his  facts,  the  wider  his  generalizations ; 
and  when  the  facts  give  clean  out,  he  has  the  field  all  to  him- 
self, with  the  very  largest  liberty  for  his  a  priori  transcen- 
dental reconstruction  of  the  Universe. 

The  character  of  a  Belief,  especially  of  Religious  Belief,  is 
largely  determined  by  the  nature  of  its  object;  and,  as  is  its 
character,  so  in  the  long  run  will  be  its  influence.  AVhat,  then, 
must  be  the  inevitable  character  and  influence  of  this  New 
Belief,  which  is  to  supplant  Christianity  and  all  existing  reli- 
gions %  Its  ultimate  object  is  a  blind,  unconscious  Force,  with- 
out vision,  without  reason,  without  righteousness,  without  will, 
without  love ;  producing  all,  foreseeing  naught ;  moving  by  a 
necessity  which  is  but  another  name  for  chance,  and  by  a 


486  THE   NEW   FAITH    OF    STRAUSS. 

chance  which  is  but  another  name  for  necessity — for  a  blind 
necessity  is  a  necessity  loaded  with  caprice.  In  "  this  enor- 
nious  machine  of  the  universe,"  says  Strauss  (ii.  213),  "  amid 
the  incessant  whirl  and  hiss  of  its  jagged  iron  wheels,  amid 
the  deafening  crash  of  its  ponderous  stamps  and  hammers,  in 
the  midst  of  this  terrific  commotion,  man  finds  himself  placed 
helpless  and  defenceless,  not  secure  for  a  moment  that  on 
some  unforeseen  motion  a  wheel  may  not  seize  and  rend  hiui 
or  a  hammer  crush  him  to  powder.  This  feeling  of  being 
abandoned  to  fate  is  at  first  really  horrible.  But  of  what 
avail  to  delude  ourselves  about  it?  Our  wish  cannot  remake 
the  world,  and  our  understanding  shows  us  that  it  is  in  fact 
such  a  machine."  And  the  only  consolation  he  can  suggest 
is,  that  we  should  get  accustomed  to  feeling  resigned  and 
happy. 

Such,  then,  according  to  the  New  Faith,  is  wisdom,  and 
here  is  the  place  of  understanding.  The  abyss  saith.  It  is  in 
in  me.  It  is  in  that  awful  depth,  in  those  Blind  Forces.  And 
this  is  the  substance  of  that  "  rational "  belief,  the  last  and 
highest  product  of  "  scientific  thought,"  which  is  to  reform 
and  supersede  that  effete  superstition  called  Christianity. 
An  unconscious  Universe  instead  of  the  Father  of  all  ;  Fate 
instead  of  Providence ;  a  sheer  submission  to  destiny  instead 
of  love  to  a  holy  and  wise  and  loving  God  ;  the  laws  of  nature 
instead  of  the  law  of  righteousness ;  self-reliance  instead  of 
])ardon  and  trust ;  the  law  of  evolution  instead  of  an  Incar- 
nate Redeemer  ;  and  in  place  of  immortality  utter  oblivion. 
All  religion,  all  morality  must  be  refashioned ;  for  all 
ideas  of  reason,  yea,  and  reason  itself,  all  ethical  precepts, 
yea,  and  conscience  itself,  can  have  no  absolute  and  perma- 
nent worth  ;  since  they  are  but  evanescent  and  necessary  pro- 
ducts of  that  o'erraastering  Force,  which  is  above  all,  and 
through  all,  and  in  all.  And  as  no  man  can  grasp  its  nature, 
so  no  man  can  foresee  what  may  or  may  not  be  yet  evolved 
mit  of  the  recesses  of  its  unfathomable,  unconscious  and  irra- 
tional being. 

A  generation  drugged  with  such  a  fell  delusion  will  change 


THIS    NEW    FAITH    ONLY   REVIVES    OLD    UNBELIEF.  487 

the  face  of  the  earth.  Especially  in  our  own  country,  where 
material  prosperity  is  so  rife  and  seductive,  and  material  ne- 
cessities are  so  urgent  and  constant — if  to  these  be  added  the 
concentration  and  impetus  of  a  scientific  and  aggressive  ma- 
terialism, and  our  whole  theory  of  life  be  transmuted  by  its 
incantations — no  imagination  can  forecast  its  perils  and  no 
wisdom  curb  its  riotous  excesses.  For  nothing  will  be  sacred 
to  it ;  there  is  no  hallowed  word  it  will  not  scoffingly  trans- 
form ;  there  is  no  institution  of  church  or  state  it  will  not  de- 
stroy and  reshape ;  the  only  law  it  knows  is  the  tyrant's 
maxim,  that  might  makes  right.  Neither  strength  nor  beauty 
can  be  in  its  sanctuary.  Let  the  race  be  thoroughly  taught 
in  this  new  creed,  blinded  to  the  supreme  light  of  reason  and 
the  imperative  obligations  of  conscience,  indifferent  to  God 
and  to  eternal  life,  and  it  will  be  ready  to  perish.  To  the 
most  cultured,  life  will  be  only  a  narrow  realism ;  for  the 
mass  of  mankind  there  is  left  chiefl}''  a  fierce  struggle  for 
wealth  and  power  and  pleasure,  with  the  survival  of  the 
strongest.  And  this  New  Faith  is,  after  all,  but  a  revival  of 
the  oldest  form  of  the  most  degrading  unbelief ;  it  cuts  off 
the  wings  of  the  soul,  drags  it  down  to  earth,  and  extorts 
from  it  the  reluctant  and  desp)airing  confession,  that  all  that 
is  left  it  is  a  dogged  purpose  to  submit  to  annihilation,  as  do 
the  l)easts  that  perish.  If  a  brute  could  become  conscious,  it 
could  not  have  any  less  religion. 

But  all  history  and  analogy  show,  that  there  is  a  vis  medi- 
catrlx  in  human  nature  itself.  In  a  great  crisis  there  is  a 
great  reaction.  One  extreme  often  evokes  its  opposite.  The 
height  of  materialism  rallies  the  reserved  spiritual  forces. 
There  is  in  man  a  spiritual  consciousness  as  well  as  a  natural 
consciousness.  Reason  and  conscience — whatever  may  be  the 
theory  as  to  their  origin,  are  now  essential  elements  of  human 
nature  ;  and  few  will  deny  that  religion  is  also.  If  there  be, 
as  Plato  taught,  any  real  vision  of  eternal  ideas ;  if  there  be, 
as  all  history  testifies,  any  sense  of  a  reality  above  the  shift- 
ing phenomena  of  the  senses  ;  until  man's  deepest  convictions 
about  righteousness,  and  sin,  and  the  need  of  forgiveness,  and 


488  THE    NEW    FAITH    OF    STKAUSS. 

liis  faith  in  God  and  immortality  can  be  rooted  out ;  these 
undying  instincts  of  humanity  will  assert  their  rightful  suprem- 
acy, and  cry  out  for  some  Divine  Deliverer,  as  did  the  race 
of  old  in  the  catastrophe  of  an  expiring  heathendom,  when  it 
had  been  first  stupefied  and  then  maddened  by  the  same 
awful  theory  of  the  Universe,  from  which  it  was  delivered 
only  by  the  triumphs-  of  Christianity.  For  tlie  very  idea  of 
God,  and  above  all  his  love  and  worship,  impress  upon  man 
the  profound  belief,  that  though  burn  of  earth  he  is  the  off- 
spring of  the  skies — the  earth-born  child  of  a  liea\enly 
Father. 

We  must  defer  a  discussion  of  the  other  two  questions  of 
the  "  JSTew  Faith."  As  to  the  two  already  examined,  "  Are 
we  still  Christians  ?  "  and,  "  Have  we  still  any  Religion '' — if 
we  may  take  them  as  addressed  to  modern  civilized  society  as 
a  whole,  and  not  merely  to  an  exceptional  class  of  unbelievers 
— the  answer  still  would  be  :  "Our  yea,  too,  is  yea,  and  our 
nay  nay,  when  we  liumljly  and  reverently  declai'e,  that  the 
belief  in  God  the  Father,  and  in  his  only  Son,  Jesus  Christ 
our  Lord,  is  to-day  the  profoundest  belief  of  the  human  soul."' 


CONCI-USION. 


INDEX. 


Ability,  natural,  Emmons'  theory  of, 
24i-'34S. 

Absolute  and  infinite,  333,  333. 

Alterius  orbis  Papa,  111. 

American  churches,  the  ministry  they 
need,  85,  86. 

American  thought,  .subjective  tendency 
of,  39-41. 

American  Presbyterianism,  its  varied 
types,  113;  matured  by  our  political 
independence,  113,  114  ;  its  progress 
and  elements,  114-116 ;  its  church  pol- 
ity republican,  116 ;  its  rapid  growth, 
116;  its  division  in  1837,  117;  ex- 
tremes alien  to  its  spirit,  117 ;  its  bear- 
ing upon  the  great  ends  of  the  Chris- 
tian church,  118;  its  practical  effici- 
ency, 118 ;  its  splendid  geographical 
position,  119,  120 ;  its  relation  to  the 
tendencies  of  the  tirae-s,  120. 

Andrews,  Jedediah,  115. 

Annobius,  quoted,  127. 

Anselm,  quoted,  15,  142,  148. 

Antecedents  of  redemption,  137. 

Aquinas,  135,  148. 

Argument,  right  method  of,  25. 

Arnold,  quoted,  42. 

Arius,  76. 

Athanasius,  quoted,  141. 

Augustine,  15 ;  quoted,  90,  135,  148. 

Authors  of  Essays  and  Reviews,  their  po- 
sition, 171 ;  their  ignorance  of  German 
criticism,  178  ;  their  want  of  candor, 
181,  182;  objecting,  never  affirming, 
179. 

Bacon,  quoted,  143  ;  Draper's  judgment 

of,  356. 
Bancroft,  George,  quoted,  99. 


Baronius,  Annales  of,  81. 

Baur,  177. 

Belief,  334. 

Bellamy,  quoted,  151. 

Bible,  the  test  of  history,  65. 

Bolton,  127. 

Bossuet,  90. 

Bradford,  108. 

Braniss,  his  History  of  PhUosopby,  quo- 
ted, 64. 

Brewster,  108. 

British  and  Foreign  Evangelical  Review, 
300. 

Broad  Church  party,  173. 

Bucer,  99. 

Buckle,  338,  33a 

BulUnger,  98. 

Bunsen,  177;  his  noble  impulses,  learn- 
ing and  faith,  185;  his  lack  of  thorough- 
ness and  precision,  186. 

Butler,  Bishop,  quoted,  352,  353  ;  his 
Analogy,  16. 

Calvin,  John,  quoted  73,  98,  99,  142, 
148,  307  ;  as  a  man,  a  divine,  a  reform- 
er, 289 ;  the  virtual  founder  of  the 
United  States  of  America,  290  ;  his  In- 
stitutes, 290  ;  his  church  polity,  290  ; 
his  organizing  power,  291. 

Calvinism,  39,  09,  101,  102,  106. 

Calderwood,  329. 

Carver,  108. 

Catechi^,  Westminster  Assembly,  33. 

Chalmers,  148. 

Christ  the  central  principle  of  Chris- 
tianity, 33,  35 ;  in  Christian  experience, 
35,  39  ;  views  of,  among  German  theo- 
logians, 35,  36,  39  ;  all  things  harmon- 


490 


INDEX. 


ized  in,  43 ;  the  crowning  glory  of  faith 
in,  47. 

Christian  philosophy,  63. 

Christian  realism,  129. 

Christian  system,  central  principle  of, 
31,  33. 

Christian  religion  the  religion  of  re- 
demption, 132. 

Christian  Rememlsrancer,  quoted,  99. 

Christian  theology,  idea  of  as  a  system, 
12.5-106.     V.  Theology. 

Christian  union  and  ecclesiastical  re- 
union, 266-296.     V.  Union. 

Christianity,  its  central  idea,  33 ;  or- 
ganic, 36  ;  harmonizes  all  things,  43  ; 
gives  all  that  philosophy  can  give,  and 
more,  43-45  ;  grandeur  of  its  end,  66 ; 
a  working  system,  109  ;  at  strife  with 
philosophy,  167  ;  always  on  its  defence, 
176  ;  evidences  of,  Professor  Powell's 
essay  on,  171,  172-174,  193-198. 

Church,  the,  what  it  has  done  for  Europe 
and  America,  73. 

Church  history,  the  science  of,  its  nature 
and  worth,  49-86 ;  position  of  a  teacher 
of,  51  ;  assaults  against  refuted,  51  ; 
what  it  is,  53,  54  ;  a  record  of  the  king- 
dom of  God,  57  ;  true  idea  of,  58  ;  cen- 
tering in  Christ,  59  ;  a  part  of  univer- 
sal history,  59 ;  to  be  presented  m 
scientific  form,  61 ;  the  true  philosophy 
of  history,  62  ;  naturalistic  and  pan- 
theistic schemes,  63  ;  grandeur  of  its 
end,  65,  66,  68  ;  the  real  philosophy  of 
human  history,  69  ;  its  worth,  71  ;  its 
interest  and  grandeur,  72  ;  its  heroes, 
74 ;  as  a  vindication  of  God's  govern- 
ment, 75  ;  a  history  of  doctrines,  75  ;  a 
preservative  against  error,  76 ;  its  appli- 
cation to  present  controversy,  77  ;  in 
relation  to  the  conflict  with  Rome,  79  ; 
prophetic  office  of,  83  ;  in  relation  to 
future  unity  of  the  church,  83,  84. 

Church,  National,  essay  on,  by  Wilson, 
198.  ^ 

Cicero,  quoted,  145. 

City  of  God,  Augustine's,  90. 

Clement  of  Alexandria,  quoted,  133. 

Common  sense,  328,  333,  334. 

Comte,  338,  339. 


Conditioned,  the,  325  ;  law  of  the,  327. 

Congregationalism,  its  co-operation  with 
Presbyterianism,  280. 

Contradiction,  princiiile  of,  326,  327, 
329,  330,  332. 

Cosmogony,  Mosaic,  essay  on,  by  Good- 
win, 202. 

Covenanters  and  Seceders,  115. 

Covenants,  103,  105,  136. 

Cyprian,  quoted,  141. 

Dante,  72. 

Davidson,  93. 

Dayton,  265. 

Delitzsch,  190. 

Doctrine  of  the  cross,  its  power,  141. 

Dorner,  161,  178. 

Dove,  his  Theory  of  Human  Progres- 
sion, 338. 

Draper's  Intellectual  Development  of 
Europe,  337-357  ;  ignores  previous  re- 
searches and  theories,  338  ;  hispliysio- 
logical  theory,  339,  340  ;  this  refuted, 
341 ;  his  theories  of  analogy  between 
individual  and  social  life  disproved, 
342-346  ;  history  not  to  be  explained 
physiologically,  347-349 ;  his  theory 
would  make  physical  laws  supreme, 
350 ;  makes  intellectual  development 
the  end  of  history,  3.50,  353  ;  ignorance 
of  great  systems,  354  ;  metaphysics  to 
be  reformed  by  physiology,  354  ;  re- 
ply, 355  ;  his  unjust  judgments  of  Ba- 
con and  Milton,  and  ignorance  con- 
cerning early  Christian  controversies, 
356 ;  theology  and  metaphysics  have 
their  own  spheres  and  rights,  356, 
357. 

Dwight,  Dr.,  241. 

Ebrard,  136,  161. 

Edwards,  Jonathan,  16,  33,  60,  375  ;  his 
theology,  149  ;  his  Theory  of  the  Na- 
ture of  Virtue,  150  ;  on  Original  Sin, 
151 ;  Freedom  of  the  Will,  151  ;  Re- 
ligious Affections,  151  ;  Nature  of 
True  Virtue,  151  ;  End  of  God  in 
Creation,  151 ;  History  of  Redemp- 
tion, 60,  90,  151 ;  his  doctrine  of  ne- 
cessity, 383,  384. 


INDEX. 


491 


Education  of  the  World,  essay  on,  by 
Dr.  Temple,  174, 179-184. 

Emmons,  Nathaniel,  151 ;  the  Theologi- 
cal System  of,  215-363  ;  his  peculiar 
characteristics  explained  away,  216; 
vindication  of  them,  317  ;  his  Memoir, 
by  Dr.  Park,  217  ;  his  theological  and 
ethical  position,  219 ;  its  essential 
points,  220 ;  foremost  among  New 
England  theologians,  221  ;  points  of 
resemblance  and  contrast  to  others, 
222 ;  his  theory  of  virtue,  223 ;  his 
doctrine  of  divine  efficiency,  225  ;  his 
relation  to  the  older  Calvinism,  225 ; 
his  theory  of  the  divine  agency,  227  ; 
what  he  means  by  it,  229  ;  his  theory 
of  the  agency  of  God  in  producing  sin, 
231 ;  on  Adam's  sin,  233 ;  on  God  as 
the  author  of  sin,  235,  236  ;  his  exer- 
cise scheme,  238,  239 ;  deductions  from 
it,  239  ;  peculiarity  of  his  psychology, 
241 ;  his  hostility  to  Arminianism, 
242  ;  in  what  sense  he  denies  original 
sin,  243  ;  his  theory  of  Natural  Abili- 
ty, 244-347  ;  application  of  his  scheme 
to  justification,  24S-350 ;  his  theory 
of  sin  as  the  necessary  means  of  the 
greatest  good,  251 ;  of  unconditional 
submission,  251  ;  New  England  and 
his  theology,  253  ;  two  sj-stems  in  him 
not  harmonized,  254  ;  no  proper  de- 
velopment, 255  ;  influence  of  his  sys- 
tem on  later  specvdations,  256,  2.59  ; 
his  system  original  and  instructive, 
but  of  necessity  a  failure,  263. 

Essays  and  Reviews,  170  ;  their  signifi- 
cance, 177. 

Ethics  in  the  Christian  scheme,  153; 
their  influence  upon  theology,  155-158  ; 
subordinate  to  theology,  102. 

European  history,  its  bearings  on  our 
own.  111. 

Eusebius,  quoted,  127. 

Evangelical  tendency,  121. 

Evidences  of  Christianity,  Prof.  Powell's 
essay  on,  171-174,  193-198. 

Excluded  Middle,  325,  339,  331. 

Extremes,  effect  of,  in  ethics  and  di- 
vinity, 159 ;  they  annul  each  other, 
164. 


Fairbairn,  Prof.,  190. 

Faith,  3  ;  what  it  is,  19-23  ;  the  crown- 
ing glory  of,  47. 

Faith  and  philosophy,  relations  of,  1- 
48 ;  their  characteristics  described,  3- 
6 ;  contrasted,  6 ;  their  opposition, 
7-9 ;  tendencies,  9-11 ;  not  inhereutlj' 
opposed,  12-17;  real  relations  and 
rightful  claims  of,  17-33;  true  method 
of  meeting  scepticism,  34  ;  systematic 
theology  their  combined  result,  2G ; 
their  reconciliation,  30. 

Farel,  98. 

Ftnelon,  110. 

Piciaus,  quoted,  130. 

Five  Points,  285. 

Foote,  Dr.,  93. 

Foreign  missions,  283. 

Formula  of  concord,  103. 

Freedom  of  the  will,  33. 

French  Protestantism,  Society  for  the 
History  of,  95. 

Geneva,  99. 

German  theology,  defence  of,  37-39. 

German  theologians,  178. 

Germany,    position   of    its    evangelical 

divines,  161. 
Gibbon,  56. 
Goethe,  quoted,  464. 
Goodwin,  C  VV.,  171, 173,  174;  his  essay 

on  the  Mosaic  Cosmogony,  203,  303. 
GrifiBn,  Dr.,  anecdote  of,  349. 
Guizot,  quoted,  97,  99. 

Hamilton,  Sir  William,  his  theory  of 
knowledge,  297-330;  his  works,  397; 
sketch  of  his  life,  398,  399  ;  his  meta- 
physical system  never  f uUy  carried  out, 
300 ;  his  partial  acquaintance  with  his- 
tory of  philosophj',  301 ;  his  mastery  of 
the  science  of  logic,  303  ;  his  theorj'  of 
knowledge  derived  chiefly  from  Kant, 
305 ;  not  a  nihilist,  305  ;  differing  from 
Kant,  308 ;  more  sceptical,  3C9  ;  his 
psychology,  311  ;  denies  distinction 
between  reason  and  understanding, 
311 ;  a  great  underlying  question,  313  ; 
what  his  theory  of  knowledge  amounts 
to,  315  ;  relativity  our  only  real  knowl- 
edge of  existence,  316  ;  this  answered, 


492 


INDEX. 


316-322 ;  how  he  avoided  being  a  scep- 
tic, 323  ;  mental  imbecility  a  source  of 
belief,  325 ;  specialty  of  his  system, 
33u  ;  law  of  the  conditioned,  327  ;  ne- 
gative thought,  329,  330;  objections 
to  his  theory,  330-333  ;  tendency  of 
his  argumentation,  333  ;  its  relations 
to  religion,  334  ;  its  inmost  sense,  335. 

Harris,  Hermes  of,  quoted,  56. 

Hase,  quoted,  90. 

Hedge,  F.  H.,  1(37  ;  quoted,  172, 

Heidelberg  Catechism,  99. 

Hengstenberg,  190. 

Hill,  93. 

History,  a  series  of  events,  54 ;  great- 
ness of,  55 ;  the  sphere  of  a  divine 
justice,  56 ;  the  Bible  its  test,  65 ; 
diviue  circle  of,  69 ;  •  divinity  in,  70 ; 
its  dignity,  87 ;  rational  aspect  of, 
88 ;  sublime  conception  of,  as  the  work 
of  God,  89 ;  redemption  its  centre  of 
unity,  90 ;  unfolded  in  the  Word  of 
God,  90  ;  all,  religious,  91 ;  neglected 
by  our  Presbyterian  churches,  92. 

History  of  Redemption,  Edwards',  60, 
90. 

Historical  Society,  Presbyterian,  92,  93, 
94. 

Hodge,  Dr.,  his  History,  95. 

Hoffman,  161. 

Home  Missionary  Society,  283. 

Hooker,  quoted,  98. 

Hopkins,  151 ;  quoted,  246,  249. 

Hopkinsians,  257,  2.'J9. 

Hotchkin,  93. 

Huber,  Prof.,  443,  448. 

Huguenots,  100,  lOS ;  in  America,  110, 
111. 

Human  race,  its  final  destiny,  118. 

Human  rights  and  reason  not  to  be  de- 
nied, 67. 

Humanitarian  tendency,  121 . 

Humanitarian  theory,  66. 

Hussey,  Prof.,  quoted,  177. 

Ideology,  applied  to  docbrines,  191. 
Infidelity,  modern,  unphilosophical,  24  ; 

its   constant    aim,    169 ;    pantheistic, 

170. 
Infinite  and  absolute,  332,  333. 


'  Iowa,  93. 
Irenffius,  quoted,  141. 
Isis,  statue  of,  70. 

Jesuits,  82. 

Jewel,  Bishop,  98 ;  quoted,  283. 

John  of  Damascus,  135. 

Jowett,  Professor,  171,  172,  174,  177, 
178 ;  essay  on  the  interpretation  of 
Scripture,  205  ;  his  idea  of  a  progres- 
sive revelation,  205  ;  his  assumptions 
and  assertions,  207 ;  his  idea  unphilo- 
sophical and  reactionary,  209. 

Kant,  303,  309,  310,  375. 
Knox,  John,  99,  148. 

Lactantius,  quoted,  131. 

Language,  power  of,  29. 

Lamennais,  3. 

Latitadiuarians,  New,  of  England,  167- 

214. 
Law  of  contradiction,  326. 
Leighton,  148. 
Leydecker,  136. 
Liebner,  161. 
Logic,  Hamilton's,  326. 
Luther,  quoted,  142,  148. 
Lutheranisra,  39,  101,  103. 

Magdeburg,  centuries  of,  81. 
Makemie,  Francis,  114,  115. 
Man  a  religious  being,  131. 
Marheineke,  136. 
Martensen,  161. 
Mecklenburg  Declaration,  116. 
Mediatorial  principle,  the  centre  of  the 

Christian  system,   135 ;  its  influence, 

139. 
Melanchthon,  99,  101. 
Metaphysics,  Hamilton's,  334. 
Middle  term,  138. 
Milton,  quoted,  78. 
Ministry  €hat  we  need,  8.5. 
Minnesota,  93. 

Montesquieu,  quoted,  98,  101. 
Morell,  his  Philosophy  of  Religion,  37. 
Muller,  Julius,  quoted,  139,  155, 161,  375. 
Mui-ray,  Dr.,  94. 

Napoleon,  quoted,  83. 


INDEX. 


493 


Nature  of  trvie  virtue,  33. 

Neander,  38,  70,  71,  161. 

New  England  theology,  its  basis,  33  ;  its 

influence,  1-19,  159,  280. 
New  England  controversies,  151,  1.52. 
New  Haven  school,  259. 
New  School,  284. 
Niedner,  quoted,  139. 
Niles,  Nathaniel,  3.58. 
Nippold,  Prof.,  443,  448. 
Nitzsch,  quoted,  131,  138. 

Oecolampadius,  98. 

Old  School,  283. 

Orange,  Prince  of,  99. 

Origen,  qu^oted,  141. 

Original  sin,  151 . 

Owen,  Professor,  134. 

Oxford,  University  of,  172  ;  school,  173. 

Palatinate,  99. 

Pantheism,  10,  11. 

Paradise  Lost,  Draper's  estimate  of,  350. 

Park,  Prof.,  21.5,  217,  326,  233,  241,  242. 

Pascal,  16,  148. 

Pattison,  Dr.  Mark,  171,  173,  174,  177, 
178 ;  his  essay  on  the  Tendencies  of 
Religious  Thought  in  England,  303 ;  its 
candor  and  learning,  303 ;  its  nega- 
tive result,  304. 

Pelagius,  76. 

Perfection,  387. 

Person  of  Christ,  34,  46 ;  doctrine  re- 
specting, 77. 

Peter  Martyr,  99. 

Philosophy,  5;  tendencies  of,  9-11 ;  pan- 
theistic, 11, 12  ;  rendering  aid  to  faith, 
26 ;  modern  tendency  of,  39. 

Plato,  quotedj  131. 

Plan  of  Union,  280. 

Plato,  130,  131. 

Pond,  Dr.,  317;  quoted,  263. 

Powell,  Baden,  171,  173,  174,  181;  his 
essay  on  the  Evidences  of  Christiani- 
ty, 193  ;  his  previous  works,  193 ;  his 
position  on  miracles,  194,  196 ;  his 
dilemma,  197. 

Presbyterian  Churches,  their  neglect  of 
history,  93 ;  way  to  their  complete  his- 
tory, 95. 


Presbyterian  Hstorical  Society,  address 

before,  87-123. 
Presbyterian  system,  383. 
Protestantism,  39,  73. 
Puritan  theology,  35. 
Pusey,  Dr.,  178. 

Quinctilian,  quoted,  149. 

Ranke,  73. 

Rauwenhoff,  Prof.,  443,  448. 

Reason,  its  office,  15. 

Reason  and  revelation,  23. 

Redemption,  History  of,  Edwards',  60, 
90;  the  centre  of  hnman  history,  90, 
133. 

Reformation,  76,  96,  100,  106. 

Reformed  churches  of  Europe  and  Amer- 
ica in  relation  to  General  Church  His- 
tory, 87-133. 

Reformed  churches,  their  history  yet  to 
be  written,  95;  grandeur  of  their  prin- 
ciples, 96 ;  in  Switzerland,  98  ;  in  the 
German  Palatinate,  99 ;  in  Holland, 
99 ;  in  England,  99  ;  in  Scotland,  99 ; 
in  Spain,  Italy,  and  France,  100 ;  their 
theology,  103 ;  their  polity,  104 ;  their 
self -organizing  spirit,  105 ;  their  aggres- 
sive and  reforming  influence,  105-108  ; 
their  practical  power,  their  energy  in 
pressing  social  and  civil  reforms,  106 ; 
transplanted  to  America,  108. 

Religion,  what  it  is,  131. 

Relativity,  325,  337. 

Religious  faith,  in  shaping  a  people's 
character,  57. 

Renan,  Joseph  Ernest,  his  Life  of  Jesus, 
401-441 ;  historic  supremacy  of  Jesus, 
401 ;  can  the  superhuman  be  elimi- 
nated from  his  life  ? — what  is  here  at 
stake,  403  ;  a  romance,  405  ;  sketch 
of  Renan's  Life,  40.5,  406;  "Our 
Father  the  abyss  " — the  soul  of  the 
book,  407  ;  pantheistic  tendency  in  his 
Etudes;  banishes  miracles  from  his- 
tory, 409 ;  sources  of  his  book,  410 ; 
no  principles  of  criticism,  411 ;  com- 
pared with  Strauss  and  Baur,  411, 
413  ;  five  sources  of  the  Life  of  Jesus, 
413;  the  four  gospels,  413-415  ;  Renan 


■i'Ji 


INDEX. 


in  conflict  with  uniform  tradition  and 
tlie  best  modern  criticism  ;  what  he 
attempts,  417,  418  ;  his  supplement  to 
the  four  gospels,  419 ;  his  sentimental- 
ism,  420,  421;  his  levity,  421,  422; 
"  una  critique  mesquine,"  423  ;  repre- 
sents Jesus  as  a  revolutionist,  enthusi- 
ast, and  thaumaturge,  424-428 ;  apol- 
ogizes for  Judas,  429 ;  rejects  all  that 
is  mysterious  and  supernatural,  430; 
a  "tendency  book,"  432;  not  philo- 
sophical, 432 ;  fatal  defects  of  the 
book,  433 ;  reactionary  character  of 
his  theory,  435 ;  lacks  the  vis  forma- 
tica,  a  high  ideal  unity  ;  such  a  being 
could  never  have  existed,  437  ;  super- 
naturalism  or  imposture,  439 ;  the 
Jesus  of  Renan  a  figment  of  natural- 
ism, 441. 

Reunion,  conditions  of,  278. 

Revelation,  possibility  of,  23. 

Ritualistic  tendency,  121. 

Robinson,  108. 

Roman  Catholic  system,  80-83. 

Rome,  conflict  with,  79. 

Sabei.lius,  76. 

Schelling,  76,  133,  375 ;  quoted,  344. 

Schleiermacher,  Frederic,  37,  136,  142, 
161. 

Schism,  94. 

Schweizer,  101,  136. 

Science  of  the  Christian  religion,  134, 
135. 

Scientific  tendency,  121. 

Scotch  philosophy,  320. 

Scripture,  interpretation  of,  essay  by  Dr. 
Jowett,  205-210. 

Seneca,  110. 

Sherwood,  94. 

Sin,  the  necessary  means  of  the  gi'eatest 
good,  251. 

Smalley,  151. 

Smith,  James,  23. 

Society  lor  the  History  of  French  Prot- 
estantism, 95. 

Socrates,  149. 

South,  148. 

Speculative  tendency,  121. 

Spring,  Dr.,  249. 


St.  Au.stin,  quoted,  141. 

Stearns,  Dr.,  his  History,  94. 

Strasbourg,  99. 

Strauss,  38,  178. 

Stewart,  Prof.,  215,  258. 

Strauss,  David  Friedrich,  the  New 
Faith  of,  a  confession,  443-488 ;  his 
Life  of  Jesus,  443 ;  rejects  all  that  is 
supernatural  as  unhistorical  or  mythi- 
cal, 444 ;  his  system  of  the  Chris- 
tian faith,  444 ;  sketch  of  his  life, 
444,  445 ;  definite  issue — a  personal 
God  or  a  blind  evolution,  446;  his 
double  apostasy,  447 ;  still  the  old 
faith,  or  a  new  faith,  449  ;  no  facts 
to  show  that  there  is  no  power 
above  nature,  450 ;  materialism  and 
idealism,  451,  452  ;  their  common  ob- 
ject, 4.53  ;  the  new  programme  as  de- 
fined by  Strauss,  4.55  ;  his  four  ques- 
tions, 456 ;  everything  or  nothing, 
457 ;  are  we  still  Christians  ?  458 ;  noth- 
ing about  Christ  to  be  surely  known, 
459 ;  arbitrary  criticism,  460 ;  covert 
atheism  the  basis  of  his  criticism,  461  ; 
fallacy  and  folly  of  his  method  in  its 
relation  to  Christ,  461-465  ;  in  its  rela- 
tion to  historical  Christianity,  465- 
469  ;  have  we  still  any  religion  ?  469  ; 
his  discussion  unmethodical,  470 ;  his 
view  of  religion,  471  ;  origin  of  reli- 
gion, 472  ;  proofs  of  religion,  473  ;  on 
the  theistic  argument,  475 ;  no  abso- 
lute morality,  475  ;  denies  personality 
of  God,  476 ;  denies  immortality,  477  ; 
nature  or  essence  of  religion,  478 ; 
' '  our  religion,"  what  it  is,  479 ,  ' '  The 
All,"  481 ;  contradictions  in  his  the- 
ory, 483 ;  sum  of  his  confession,  483, 
484  ;  a  combination  of  pantheism  and 
materialism,  485  ;  what  and  whither 
this  new  belief  ?  485  ;  this  new  faith  a 
revival  of  old  unbelief,  487. 

Systematic  theology  a  science,  37 ;  ne- 
cessity of,  27 ;  objections  to,  answered, 
28-30. 

Taylor,  Dr.,  259,  261. 

Taste  and  exercise,  152. 

Temple,  Dr.,  171,  174,  179-184.  His 
theory  nebuloiis,  183 ;    his   confusion 


INDEX. 


495 


of  thought,  1S4 ;  contrasted  with  Dr. 
Arnold,  184. 

Tendencies  of  our  times,  120-123. 

Tendencies  of  religious  thought  in  Eng- 
land, essay  by  Dr.  Mark  Pattison,  303. 

Tertullian  quoted,  141. 

Tests  of  a  final  system  of  truth,  143. 

Theology,  Christian,  its  idea  as  a  sys- 
tem, 135-1 66 ;  the  old  and  new  in  it, 
137;  its  great  problem,  127;  its  radi- 
cal idea,  138  ;  its  interior  traits,  130  ; 
centring  in  redemption,  133,  135,  137, 
138 ;  tested  as  a  final  system  of  truth, 
143,  144  ;  a  practical  science,  145  ;  its 
practical  efficacy  due  to  its  sublimest 
truths,  146 ;  not  a  mere  scheme  of 
moral  government,  163  ;  despisad,  165  ; 
shall  be  redeemed  as  queen  of  the  sci- 
ences, 165. 

Theology,  systematic,  needful,  26  ;  ob- 
jections to,  answered,  28,  29. 

ThirlwaU,  Dr.,  186. 

Tholuck,  161,  189,  190. 

Thomasius,  161. 

Tractarian  movement,  173. 

Trent,  decrees  of,  82 ;   council  of,  103. 

Tuttle,  94. 

Twesten,  161. 

♦        Ullmann,  quoted,  36,  127. 

Ulrici,  Prof.,  443 ;  quoted,  448 ;  his 
"God  and  Nature,"  448;  quoted,  473, 
475 

Unity  of  the  church,  83. 

Union,  Christian,  and  ecclesiastical  re- 
union, 266-296  ;  unity,  the  ideal  of  the 
church,  266 ;  union  not  uniformitj', 
268  ;  causes  of  divisions,  268 ;  centri- 
petal and  centrifugal  forces,  209  ;  re- 
union impossible  on  any  exclusive 
claim,  269  ;  relation  of  church  to  state, 
270 ;  tendency  of  revivals  to  union, 
270  ;  sectarianism  losing  power,  271 ; 
tendency  of  our  republican  govern- 
ment, 373;  of  our  national  conflict, 
273  ;  infidelity  and  Romanism  as  com- 
mon foes,  arguments  for  Christian 
union,  274,  275 ;  the  church  the  body 
of  Christ,  275  ;  difficulties  of  reunion, 
277 ;    its    conditions,    278 ;     progress 


through  conflict,  the  law  of  human 
life,  378;  illustrated  by  our  church 
history,  279,  280 ;  questions  raised  by 
reunion,  2S1 ;  obsolete  views,  283 ; 
doctrinal  differences,  2S3-387  ;  our  five 
points,  285  ;  Christ  the  author  of  peace, 
287  ;  relation  of  our  churches  to  the 
state,  293  ;  peace  must  come,  294-296. 

Vera,  443,  448,  458. 
Virtue,  true  nature  of,  33. 
VonMuller,  John,  90,  91. 

Waldenses,  97. 

Westcott,  463. 

Westminster  Catechism,  115,  28.^. 

Westminster  Confession,  10.3,  115,  117, 
147,  364. 

Westminster  Review,  quoted,  183,  186, 
211,  212  ;  objection  to  its  theory,  213  ; 
on  Renan,  434. 

VVhedon  on  the  Will,  359-399  ;  freedom 
and  necessity,  3.59-363 ;  conditions  of 
actual  choice,  361  ;  advocacy  of  Ar- 
minianism  and  attack  on  Calvinism, 
363;  "necessarians,"  363;  new  and 
strange  words,  363 ;  "  philosophical 
necessity,"  .364;  Arminianism  de- 
mands Pelagianism,  365 ;  three  parts 
of  the  book,  366 ;  the  will  defined, 
306  ;  what  is  freedom  of  the  will,  367 ; 
pluripotential  power,  309 ;  motives 
not  the  efficient  causes  of  volition, 
369 ;  the  crucial  question,  371  ;  the 
will  not  a  complete  or  adequate  cause 
of  volitions,  371  ;  alternative  power  or 
cause,  373,  373  ;  law  of  causality,  374  ; 
nothing  uncaused  except  the  first 
cause,  375 ;  relation  of  the  will  to 
motives,  377  ;  comparison  of  motives, 
379 ;  volition  and  the  doctrine  of 
probabilities,  381  ;  necessity,  383  ; 
misrepresentation  of  Edwards,  384 ; 
natural  and  moral  ability,  385 ;  free 
agency  and  Divine  foreknowledge, 
387 ;  certainty,  389 ;  possibility  of  the 
Divine  apostasy,  390  ;  inconsistencies, 
391,  392  ;  "  gracious  ability,"  .393-395  ; 
his  argument  a  failure,  3%  ;  his  theo- 
dicy, 397 ;  free  will,  399. 


496 


INDEX. 


Will,  freedom  of,  33,  151. 

WUliams,  Rowland,  171,  172,  174,  177, 
181,  181-193 ;  his  belief  in  Bunsen, 
184 ;  lines  to  Bunsen,  1 85  ;  his  want 
of  clearness  and  candor,  186;  and  of 
scholarship,  187 ;  his  mode  of  inter- 
joreting  prophecy,  188,  189  ;  contrasted 
with  Tholuck,  189 ;  refuted  by  Pair- 
bairn,  190  ;  extravagant  statements  of 
doctrines,  190  ;  his  application  of  ide- 
ology to  doctrines,  191,  193. 

Wilson,  Henry  Bristow,  171,  173,  174 ; 


his  essay  on  the  national  church,  198  ; 
on  subscription,  199 ;  his  principles 
those  of  Strauss,  201  ;  what  his  pro- 
ject amounts  to,  202. 

Wilson,  Dr.  James  P.,  126. 

Wisconsin,  93. 

Witherspoon,  quoted,  116. 

Woods,  Dr.,  quoted,  221,  258. 

Wyckliffe,  quoted,  76. 

Zurich,  99. 
Zwingle,  98. 


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11012  01095  1871 


Date  Due 

,.  ■■■  ii 

I 

OCT; 

\ 

--«--«.«««. 

f) 

I 


